Does this mean I am fluent?

 Good relationships can be defined how many marks you have on your tongue from biting it at the right times. They are similar to finger prints no two are ever the same and can be delicate even at the best of times. When the “honeymoon” period fades and real life starts to peak through all of the sunsets you two have been blinding watching for the last six months, there comes a point where you may look at your partner and think “he may not be as perfect as I though”. And that is okay, who wants a perfect someone when you can have a perfect beautiful mess? Those are the words that I like to use when speaking about my own newish relationship, a pinch of misunderstanding a dash of miscommunication and a smidgen of patients, but which recipe is right for a lasting dish?

The thing with first fights is never expected, you are just relaxing in your honeymoon phase, listening to romantic music, sipping a drink with a little plastic umbrella and only seeing your new “love” until the handsome man that looks as if he has spent all of the 2000’s in the gym, you look up and see other options. Everything comes crashing back down to earth and you both wake up from a six month dream. I woke up thinking “what the hell was that?” you either solve problems well together or you don’t, listening and understanding and comprises are key ingredients. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, that we would have our first squabble but I wasn’t sure how it was going to go down…

It went a little something like this, him running late and me being annoyed. To his defense he is not usually late, but going from single and free to spending every night with my new boyfriend and practically living together many small things where adding up like that of a Wal-Mart recipe. Again asking yourself what the hell happened? He uses his key to open the door, smiles and says “Krys, what’s up love, where are you?” “Here” I shout from the kitchen, immediately he sees my expression and says “what is the matter?” I just let him have it, I reamed him out in his language, foreign to my ears and using some naughty words my high school students taught me, it flowed out of mouth at the speed of lighting and just about as much electricity for about five minutes. He looked at me with a confused expression and then burst out laughing, “Where on earth did you learn those words?”

I shrug with a sly grin and ask “does this mean I am fluent?”