Musings on a cold day

Why does love magnify anger?

Is it passion? Is it proximity forced on two used to their space and independence? Is it frustration borne out of some unspoken annoyance? What makes couples argue? Can a whisky driven monologue truly explain these mysteries?

I moved in with Mrs. Blog-It-Out recently. It's a freezing March afternoon and I'm wandering the streets. I had to get out, snow be damned. I grabbed my new eos5 and took flight. The comforts of the local bar and their Jameson have given me refuge.

Years spent living on the solo breed a comfort of ones own space. Your possessions, your rules, your life. When that comfort, previously enjoyed by both parties, has to start to compromise, then is where the strains start to show.

I started this blog a few years back with no real reason in mind. It has found its raison d'etre today, much in the way a full glass will overflow once frozen, so the cold has brought meaning today.

This shall be my private chronicle of a relationship.

Maybe one day, when we are old and settled, I'll show it to her. But for now, this is my escape and release. A virtual shoulder to cry on, a vent aimed at no one in particular.

I had a drunken conversation with a good, recently engaged friend a while back. I implored him to impart some of his understanding on me - why is it so tough for two who love each other to not fight? He had no answer. The best advice he could give was that there is no reason, best just to bite the lip and endure. Take the high road and let them have their assumed victories.  They don't understand how we think, us even less of their internal machinations or triggers. I am eternally jealous of gay couples for the simple fact that they don't have to try to figure out the insanities of the opposite sex.

Enough of this now. My glass is empty and another is to be ordered. Once fortified against the cold I will embark once more to the Richmond tundra to take more pictures, the only exercise I know that clears my mind. Soon I'll find a flower shop, purchase the requisite apology instrument, and return to the fray once more. She has just texted to see where I am. The air appears to have cleared, but the journey is far from at an end. A man's struggle will continue. And I shall be back here soon to tell all, in public, veiled in the joy of secrecy.