Issues and Wet Tissues

“Issues and Wet Tissues”.  A term I coined for a fight that tugs at the emotions a little too hard; usually relating to couples arguing or break ups.  Derived from “The Fight Song” by Sanctus Real.

What I’m about to tell you is the weirdest fight I’ve ever seen and experienced.  Of course, as you may have guessed, the stage for this was in our beloved apartment, 140E.  But the participants weren’t living in 140E.  No, as you know, many visitors and commuters would stop by for extended periods of time.  For anonymity, I’ll refer to the participants in this fight as John and Jane.

John had come over after a long day on campus.  He was a regular at 140E, for he had nowhere else to go.  Home was several hours away, and he traveled on bicycle.  He would hang out here often, while he waited for Jane to finish her shift at work.  They had made plans to go to dinner together that evening.  So, he waited and waited while he slowly grew hungrier.  I literally had nothing to offer him to snack on, I hadn’t done groceries in a while.  Work was keeping Jane late, really late.  Other roommates cooked and offered him some food, it was then that he indulged a little too much.  So much so, that the first thing he said to Jane after her long shift was something along the lines of “I’m not that hungry anymore, I kind of ate already”.  Frustrated, disappointed, mad, sad.. she tearily began to ask “why?”.

It began.


The interesting thing about fights is that sometimes there are deeper rooted issues.  All it takes is the smallest instance for emotions to trigger.  As war torn veterans of the game of love, Eddie and I knew this all too well; we saw all this unfold before us.  She cried a bit, asking why he did that.  He tried to justify it, after all it was almost a couple hours after their intended plan.  Jane wasn’t having it.  John apologized, but it was the kind of apology that felt like he didn’t really care and just wanted to avoid further anger.  Hunger and fatigue were getting the best of Jane, so they compromised and left to get a burger at the nearby fast food place.  As the door closed behind them, Eddie came into my room and asked, “What was that?”.

I tried to dismiss it, I figured it would be better if we didn’t get involved.  Besides, I was hoping that would be the last of it.  They would eat, stop being hangry, make up and things would be happy again.  I also thought, if anything, they would finish their fight elsewhere.


I was wrong.

Not an hour passed when they came back; they had gotten their food to go.  John came in and sat at our table, while Jane was several steps behind him.  No words were exchanged as she pulled his burger and fries out of the bag and plopped them on the table.  Jane proceeded to walk out as her eyes began to tear up again.

Within seconds, Eddie and I communicated what needed to be done with our eyes.  He hopped on his bike to track her.  I quietly sat myself down next to John.  We did it not to intervene or offer advice, rather just to console.  There wasn’t much talking involved from Eddie or me.  Sometimes having a friend sit with you in silence while your heart is in pain helps a lot.


I’m not sure how much time passed, but eventually Jane came back.  Eddie managed to catch up to her car on his bicycle (he’s so buff).  Once more, they tried to talk it out as Eddie and I returned to our rooms, it was a school night still, there was work to be done.  I tried my best not to listen, but it’s hard when I have an open door policy (I always left my door open unless I was asleep, for accountability and stuff).

And that’s when the deeper rooted issues surfaced.  Because she wasn’t really that mad about John eating beforehand.  And John was still hungry anyways, he gobbled up the burger and fries.  But this conversation was just waiting to happen.  John wanted to leave the state, and even the country, for adventure was out there.  Jane wasn’t quite ready to follow him into the dark, especially without a ring on her finger.  John treated marriage like a checklist item for him to be able to leave.  Jane wasn’t happy about that.  And so forth.  All this was happening while our whole apartment tried to awkwardly do our homework in our rooms.  The kitchen and living room were suddenly off limits.  I remember being hungry, but I couldn’t do anything about it cause I was more or less stuck in my room.  I couldn’t enter no man’s land.

Hours passed, and I finally finished my homework as the clock struck 2am; they were still in the living room.  By the time I showered and washed up for bed, they finished up their conversation.  I found Jane sitting in Eddie’s room, she needed a favor.  Jane was normally John’s ride home, but she couldn’t even look at him right then and there.  She wanted us to take him home.  We agreed, though we both had 8am classes the next day.  It was raining, and John still only had a bicycle.

As she made her way down the stairwell, there was a scene you would normally see in the movies.  As the rain poured, he chased after her to get a few last words in.  To which, Jane denied him and stormed off.  Defeated, he walked towards the car.  The trunk was popped open for his bike as he stared off into the distance.  He then hopped on his bike and went after her.  And that was the last of that.  Eddie and I debriefed a bit before we had a night of weird and uneasy rest.

Friday and Saturday passed, and then late Sunday afternoon, they came through the door of 140E again.  This time, Jane couldn’t contain her smile or her laughter.  We were confused.  Apparently, they reconvened again at a Denny’s where they had another long talk into the wee hours of the morning, which lead nowhere again.  John then sought advice from a trusted individual who basically told him, Jane is smart and a good catch, you’d be a fool to let her go.  Humbled, he accepted these words and all was well in their relationship again.  I guess that’s a testament to their relationship?  I mean, I’m happy for them, I just think it would have been better if they didn’t fight in our apartment..


Yup.  That happened.  In 140E.  It was weird.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s