Our relationship has never been normal. The first time we met, we argued. The first time we kissed, we'd been arguing. The first time I asked her out- was right after an argument- and a particularly intense one, at that…
Along the way, we grew closer and closer. Pretty soon, we became practically inseparable; but still- our relationship was peppered with silly arguments and petty fights.
When I proposed to her, she'd been elated. She hugged me and sobbed into my shirt and I'd teased her about it, and she'd just punched my arm and told me to shut up, laughing through tears. But get this- right before, we'd been arguing. In fact, it wasn't't just a silly old disagreement over the remote control; it was a full-out fight- with yelling and shoving and everything. I was so mad that I kind of threw the ring at her. It hit her in the head and she was so furious she looked like she was going to murder me. She was so mad, she'd declared that we were over, but I couldn't speak because my eyes were fixated on the ring, buried in the carpet. My heart felt like it had stopped. Shit. I'd thought. I've ruined everything.
"Puck, what the hell? Are you stoned or something?" Sabrina had demanded furiously at the lack of my reaction upon her announcement that she'd broken up with me. I couldn't- I was frozen. She huffed and followed the direction of my gaze. I couldn't move- I was shell-shocked. I studied her expression nervously. Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. She whipped her head up and looked at me.
"I- I…" The tension was palpable and the silence, deafening.
"Pu-…" She began. The sound of her voice snapped me out of my reverie and I dived onto the carpet and scooped the ring up, shoving it back into my jeans pocket- where it had lived for weeks. As I scrambled up again, I realized she'd just been gaping at me the whole time. Instinctively, I took a step back, away from her. My face felt like it was on fire.
"I'm sorry! I-I just… M-m-maybe you can j-just f-forget…?" I never got the chance to finish that sentence because she'd thrown herself against me with enough gusto that we both toppled over, into the lush carpet.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" She'd screamed before she'd kissed me, full on the lips. When our laughter had subsided and her eyes were glittery with our unshed tears, I asked her,
"Does that mean we're not over?" She'd just laughed and punched my stomach lightly. We lay together on the carpet, wrapped in each others' arms and the ring glittered on her finger. For weeks I couldn't muster the courage to propose (shh don't tell anyone) and all I needed was the adrenaline, the familiarity that came with our arguments. Later Sabrina whispered into my ear,
"That was the least romantic proposal ever, but I'm letting you slide on this one because I wouldn't have it any other way. This is just us." And she was right. I may not have planned to throw the ring at her in a fit of anger, but the sheer nature of the proposal was so accurate a reflection of our personalities, and of our relationship that it was essentially more special, better than any proposal I could have planned.
Just in case you're wondering, yes- we did fight before our wedding. And we almost slept in separate rooms on our wedding night. (Well, the only way to get her to sleep in the room we'd booked was by assuring her that I'd sleep on the couch for that night- that's how angry I'd made her) We'd fought when we found out she was pregnant, and when she was about to give birth. (Well that was awful- I didn't do anything to her!)
The thing is, anger and love are both so passionate, such intense emotions that the very fact that our relationship has been fueled, pushed forward by spontaneous, angry outbursts just makes it all the more… us.
No- our relationship has never been normal, but I wouldn't have it any other way.