I had been dating Ashish for 7 months when we first started fighting. The honeymoon period was great while it lasted, but I just wasn’t ready for this next phase of our relationship. We would fight about everything – from him not calling me even once a day, to me not wanting to hang out with his friends. Nothing seemed to be going our way. It’s not like we didn’t make up after every fight. We did. But there was just something beneath the surface of every ‘Sorry’ and ‘Let’s just forget about it’ that I couldn’t shake off.
When we had started dating, we had talked about what exactly both of us were looking for. He was four years older than me and wanted to be with someone he could one day, in the near future, marry. And I had gotten out of a bad relationship a year before I met him and I had made it very clear to him that I wasn’t looking to be with someone who wasn’t comfortable with my career or lifestyle choices. We thought we were on the same page. But the fights just didn’t end.
Around the time of our one year anniversary, things worsened. I had a lot of pressure on me at work and it was obviously affecting my personal life. And I wished Ashish would provide some support during this difficult time – I hoped he would have my back. But I never felt like he did.
We went out drinking with my college friends after a particularly stressful week and ended up having another fight there. Neither of us remembers how it started and what exactly it was about – and maybe it was just about everything. I ran to the washroom, in tears. From in there, I texted my best friend (who was out with us that night) – ‘I think we’re going to break up.’
She came and found me, and calmed me down. Fifteen minutes later, Ashish called his driver to come pick us up. He was behaving a bit oddly and not really speaking much to me.
My phone pinged. It was my best friend, checking on me.
‘Who is it?’ Ashish asked.
‘Kriti.’
‘What is she saying?’
‘Nothing.’ I turned to look out of the window.
‘Can I see it?’
I had shut down by then and just didn’t care. I unlocked my phone and gave it to him.
He read the messages and saw the one of us potentially breaking up. He scrolled up some more. There was silence for 5-10 minutes.
‘Is that what you want?’
‘What do I want?’
‘Do you want to break up with me?’
‘WHAT?!’ This brought back a bit of life into my voice. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘That’s what you messaged Kriti.’
‘No, it’s not actually. I didn’t say I wanted that. I said that it might happen – because I thought you might be tired of fighting all the time.’
‘I don’t love fighting with you but that doesn’t mean we’re going to talk about breaking up, Ananya. This is not high school. I love you. That’s not going to change because of a few bad fights. Actually, I’m not even going to explain this to you. You’re not allowed to break up with me. End of story.’
No, that wasn’t the end of our fights. Those still haven’t stopped. But that one moment of him fighting for us, gave me the reassurance I needed to fight for us too.
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