First Fight

Irish and I had our first blowout fight on thursday. The result was that we didn't speak for a few days and now he's gone for at least two weeks, most likely three...his pursuit doesn't necessarily bring him back to the city till March. Why don't I learn my lesson with absent men?

The first fight sets a precedent for future fights. And much like with everything else Irish, I've let him off too easily. I think part of my reasoning is that he's so much older it doesn't make sense to expose him to my juvenile reactions. But the truth is those fragments of immaturity are who I really am--I haven't grown past them and it's unfair that he is exempt from what a younger man would be privy to--not that he's going to complain about this inequality, but it's still less real.

On one hand, his admission of personal truths made me feel closer to him, he's cracked open a window in the large house that represents the recesses of his mind; but on the other hand, is this how things are going to play out moving forward--he gets off scott-free and I stew in misery?