The Big D: Our First Skype Fight

Sometimes I love FB. It's my main line of communication with my hubby. It has been a great way to get to know new people at my FDS and I've also been able to keep in touch with friends back home. I can post a pic of my 7 year old with her just-pulled tooth between her fingers instead of having to call all the grandmas individually. It's great. But sometimes I believe that FB is the freaking spawn of Satan and has no earthly business distracting us from our real lives with virtual pseudo-crap that masquerades as real life. But I digress.

 My husband and I fling arguments back and forth for a while on FB chat but he has to go to work and I have to take my daughter to art class so hours go by without responses and a conversation that should have taken 20 minutes and been done with dragged out ALL DAY LONG. That is not good for women--to stew all day on stuff like that. It makes petty little things grow and fester into malignant, all-consuming problems. Yes, it was a horrible, horrible day.

So, here's what I did and why I'm telling you guys about this. I've been around long enough to know the destruction that can be wrought during a fight in which the words you use are typed/written instead of spoken. Once you click "send" he can read your words over and over again. He can read in between the lines and infer things you didn't mean. You can never take the words back, even if you apologize and say you didn't mean it--the words are still THERE, hurting each other for internet eternity. So I thought on that and prayed before every single reply I wrote to him. There were some messages that I typed while my heart was thumping and smoke was pouring out of my ears that I deleted and started over because it was more important to me that he understand why I was ticked than to just know that I was ticked. I could have called him names (and believe me I wanted to) but I didn't. I didn't want to pretend nothing was wrong either, so I kept my words honest and focused on me instead of accusing him (he didn't hurt me intentionally and I always knew that even though it didn't diminish how hurt I was). It wasn't about venting or harping at him either. That's not communication. I tried really, really hard, as mad as I was, to keep an even temper while I was writing and tried to anticipate his reaction to what I was saying. Honestly, I didn't know for sure. He said he thought he was being funny and meant nothing by it. I could have been makings worse but hoped I wasn't.

And you know what? I woke up this morning to a lengthy, apologetic, sappy, romantic message and I wrote him one right back. Can I tell you part of what he said? It makes me smile.  "I'm waiting to come home to you because you are the most beautiful woman I know. You are the mother of my children, the love of my life, my best friend, the person I would die for." I would have rather had hot make-up sex, of course, but this wasn't a bad substitute. And now we have those loving messages full of kind words that we can look at over and over, for all internet eternity.

Love prospers when a fault is forgiven, but dweling on it separates close friends. Proverbs 17:9.