A most humble thanks for checking in for part two. In the interest of fairness, Natalie must be heard...
In Defense of Civilization
Part Two
Arguments, for all their give and sway, were a stabilizing factor in life. Like cables tied to a radio tower, the tension cords gripped tight enough for support but loose enough to permit movement. The association of strong wills ensures friction in the movement, but the ties keep them from bouncing apart after impact.
A dispute voiced was evidence that there was something worth fighting over…and for. Differences of opinion proved that conversation occurred in a relationship. There were people who never discussed things, which allowed no flourishing of intellectual divergence. Disagreements were hard to come by when there were no passionate thoughts to defend. As much as a peaceful person hungers after harmony, monotony can creep into tranquility. It rusts the works, leading to the sort of discontent that disintegrates into relationship rubble.
In truth, their fights were frequently about no particular subject of note. Rather the sparring was typically born of tired minds relaxing the grip on practice-sharpened tongues. Humans were constructed with prickly buttons and an inherent fascination with pushing those of others. And as though it were a genetic duty, the man just couldn't pass up buttons. It was a compulsion, one proving difficult to tame. But while being put upon was vexing, he'd always made it worth the exertion.
She'd known from the start that it was she who would be required to retreat from the battlefield when a skirmish left safe territory. She'd learned that he would always advance, his convictions unmade for any other direction but forward. Her own points would retract, if not reverse, just enough to move out of range, trusting that as he regrouped, some form of calm would settle his soldiers into line. Only then would he be ready to seek concession under a reluctant banner of peace.
It wasn't that he didn't like peace. Far from it. But it was a bit like visiting another country; the map is there but the language is foreign. The streets turn him around and in discomfort he'd resort to diving into the embassy of familiar tactics. She is the tour guide of the land of relationships and sometimes she had his full attention and something close to cooperation. But then he'd get distracted and tune her out when the bus hit a bumpy road.
Despite their steadfast joining, he tended to operate as though he were unattached. Being part of a pair was strangely alien for a previously married man. Which explained a lot, she supposed. But she craved the connection of souls, though the daily task of reasserting it was exhausting.
He tries. But he forgets.
And so she never let him see her cry, knowing the tears would drip cold guilt into him faster than any accusation. Though it would make a good lesson, it was not one she was keen to teach. Because he took too long to recover from such things, the brooding an automatic response to be avoided. It was easier for her to forgive him than it was for him to forgive himself. And she suspected he counts on that.
He tries.
Hiding in their room was awfully childish for a grown woman. The door slamming was a nice touch, just in case he hadn't noticed the departure. The vibrations were probably registering on someone's Richter scale. Their seismic energy could trigger earthquakes when they were content. When at war, the earth's axis shifted to absorb the impact. He'd be contemplating his options right now and she watched the knob for the signal of decision.
The door much preferred a gentle treatment, such as he was giving it now. Contriteness shadowed him but her serenity chased it away. He failed to apologize, her view of such futility well established by now. It wasn't necessary to earn clemency. A free pardon always waited at the conclusion of the fight. It helped that he sought it humbly rather than expected it with some sense of entitlement.
He tries and eventually he'll learn. In civilization, peace is always better.