Like Waxing

A band-aid. I was right. After another night in the fabulous East Village, Daniel and I came home and proceeded to have the dumbest argument. Where the fight went is, of course, the most indicative. What we have, not so shockingly, are power and pride issues. Am I doomed to another decade of childish twenty-something relationships?!?!

“Tit-for-tat” and “ultimatum” are not words I would normally associate with my never-so-healthy relationships, but this has become exactly so. My boyfriend seems to think that I do nice things for him because he does the same for me, and vice versa. It has never occurred, I learned, that I do sweet things because I want to do them. It’s like he’s been keeping score from the beginning. How does one work with that?

It’s like advanced math games for graduate students (and, Jenny, I don’t mean you, darling). I don’t like score keeping in my relationships. Are we that bored? I know that he’s new at this. Is it me? I hate this rigorous game. This isn’t the first time that we’ve dealt with issues of counting. Is it because he’s a science guy?

I know that we’re at different levels when it comes to out own feelings of self-confidence. This could be, as my girlfriend has suggested, his need to reassert himself in the face of someone like me. To me, however, it just looks like a big monkey banging on his chest. I agreed to work this out with him. Now, it just seems like it will be as painful as I feared.

Last night felt like the slow ripping off of the band-aid that we placed on the hairy leg of this relationship two weeks ago. I fear that nothing has healed. The issues are similar. I feel that we’re doing so much to save a relationship that requires two adults. We’re not them, are we? These wounds hurt. They may even scar. Do they make Neosporin for couples?