30: One Argument, a Lifetime of Trauma

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30: One Argument, a Lifetime of Trauma

The title makes it sound horrible. One argument, a lifetime of trauma…I will probably edit it out later.

I was in an awkward place (literally) when I knew that something had snapped within him. The snap was always sudden and unexpected, and when it had happened, I could feel the cold accompanying the usual sense of dread seep into my bones and eventually, into my heart. A zing of tension spread around my upper torso, immobilising me as I heard the anger and the harshness in my father’s words reverberating around the whole house. I was so close to the site of pain as well, and made it feel all the more worse as I imagined my mother bearing the brunt of the storm. I could hear them exchange worse words, meaningless retorts and hurtful comments which were meant to cut deep.

Could two people ever imagined that at some point – not when they were young and so in love – they would eventually reach this stage in marriage and have powerfully traumatic arguments over nothing at all? When I escaped my awkward place, the argument was still ongoing and it felt like it would never stop. He kept making unnecessary digs at her weaknesses and vulnerable points.

I could only sit and listen, and only hoped that one day when I met my significant other, I wouldn’t have terrible arguments like these. If I ever did, I would probably run away and not come back to the house for a week, maybe two. If I was brave enough, maybe I’d hide out for a long time. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about this so early, but what if…? If we did have a massive fallout, I would be the one to pack up and leave. I would obviously eventually come back, because I know that I’m a person who craves to be loved. I know I shouldn’t have to resort to packing up and walking out, but I guess that’s who I am. I have to run away for a while before I come back to face the problems. I wouldn’t want to walk out in the first place, but sometimes, I just wonder, if the person you love most hurts you in the most unimaginable, irreparable way, what would you do?

Of course, I’d tell my mother everything. Then I’d probably cry all night long, and make up highly unrealistic fantasies about us not ever arguing and-

“Sometimes it’s easier to let her win the argument because it’s easier than losing her.”

Or something like that. I guess that’s cute, but everything becomes so cliché after a while that I don’t really know if whatever they’re saying is true or actually from a shared image we always saw when we were teenagers.

Well, first of all, to even have arguments like these, I’d have to find the perfect significant other. I’d have to form a strong relationship with them, and be “so in love” with them, and then so on and so forth, and then arguments.

Yeah, honestly, I shouldn’t be thinking about this, but still, what if? I know my parents are deeply in love with each other (I think) but for me, I just don’t feel that connection with anyone.

Apparently your significant other will smell so good to you when you meet them. According to my sister, the smell of her boyfriend is like heaven or something disgustingly cliché, and she claimed that my mother “will never forget the smell of [him]”.

Well, I guess I’m screwed. My sense of smell isn’t that powerful.

It’s like I have a cold all the time. I can’t smell anything at all.

I guess I’m screwed. Lol?


~ Serendipitous

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