Legend has it that somewhere out there in the world are people who don’t argue with those they’re dating. Not about money, the laundry, or the future of their relationship, or who should order the bloody Uber because you’ve ordered the last five, damn it.
Sadly, I’ve never been one of those people.
I argue about dishes. About bills and social engagements. About where my car keys are and if I have to be the one to go to the supermarket on a Sunday. About my boyfriend not sharing my enthusiasm for the single greatest culmination that is two beings: Kimye.
And as it happens, my boyfriend is also an arguer.
When we first got together, things were disgustingly peachy. We would cook each other dinner and read the papers sitting side by side on the weekend. We'd try out new brunch spots and spend hours watching our favourite movies. We never argued. But then we moved in together. And Oh. My. God.
We fought about who carried the packing boxes upstairs. About what takeaway to order. About how many times he cooked dinner each week. About how I washed the dishes. About how he didn't make the bed. And sure, they were trivial things, but in the confines of a small apartment, it didn't take long for them to end in tears (mine) or the deafening silence of frustration (his).
After 18 months together we went through a particularly rough patch that saw us come closer to breaking up than ever before or since. And it was then that a friend offered me up the most sage dating advice I've ever heard in my life.
And that was this: If you feel a fight coming on or need to discuss serious things that are likely to lead to one or both of you getting frustrated and upset, leave the house.
Go to a cafe. Or a bar. Or a park. Wherever it is, just get out and get out quick.