We're angry at each other again. For the same stupid reason, again. He's loaded the laundry (located in the basement) and has failed for the past two hours to load it into the dryer. Livid I go down and I change it. He's angry at me. The same argument ensues. I want him to change it on a timely basis, he wants me to let him work at his own pace, I want him to understand that I have to fold it so it's best if it's done so I can go to bed, he thinks I am impatient, I tell him I can't survive if I'm not timed perfectly. He gets angry, walks away. I finish the laundry, sulky at best. I crawl into bed and lay there, anger brewing inside, waiting to yell at him when he walks into bed.
He slides in next to be, holds me and says softy, "I don't want to make you upset, I'm sorry about the laundry."
I'm still livid, "You don't understand Steven, I don't function that way, I have to have a timeline or I'll go crazy."
He gets upset, "Why won't you just let me do it on my own time?"
"Because I give you chances and you always let me down, it always takes you three days to do laundry, I don't want to do laundry for three days, I want to do it once a week, that's it."
"It's just laundry."
Now I'm even madder, "You don't understand Steven, this affects everything you do outside of work, as a cook, you're awesome, you have everything timed, things are clean and smooth and functional. Here at home, you don't do things on a timely basis, you don't consider what the results will be from the actions you take, or don't take."
He gets quiet, I'm still fuming, the silence between us is deafening.
"You want me to change?"
Softly I whisper, "I don't want to change you, I love you the way you are. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't love you just the way you are, I just want you to do what you do at work at home, not all of the time, just enough." (then in my usual tone) " I don't even know if that's the right thing to say..."
Finally he smiles at me, I know that even if none of the information has gone into his skull, he at least understands right now. (We haven't done laundry for the week yet soo cross our fingers)

How about that?

Steve and I are talking about something. It's his turn and he's going on and on about something but I can't hear the words clearly. I'm staring at him, the color of his eyes with the light behind him, dark green and grey, the roundness of his face, the shadow of stubble across it, all of this hypnotizes me. He was getting out of bed to go back out to the living room to do something. He finally notices that I'm staring at him. I must look dumbfounded. He stares inquisitively at me.
"Come here." I say.
He smiles, he understands lying down next to me. We kiss softly, no tongue, no passionate love making, just soft touching of the lips and then he's staring at me with that look on his face. I know I have the same look on mine. The "I can't believe how much I love you face."
"It's like I've seen you all day baby, but just now, right this moment I'm seeing you... does that make sense?"
He nods again, rubbing the small of my back, "Yeah it does."
Nothing happens for a few minutes, we just stare at each other and grin like fools, high as kites on each other.

So this is love. I've known for a long time that I loved him. Knew it was going to be impossible to not fall for those blue eyes and that beautiful smile... when he first kissed me... But we became a couple and we moved in together and ours lives became routine. Hello and goodbye kisses, eating, sleeping, waking up, going to work.... And although the love was there, as all things that become routine, we got used to it and it didn't seem so extraordinary. And then this moment occurred.... Nothing tragic happened, no one had an affair, no one had secrets to share or dreams accomplished to celebrate. It was just two people talking.... and love came barreling back to remind us that it was still an extraordinary thing.

Or better yet, "I like that you don't do that thing my ex does."

I dated this one guy for a month the summer after I graduated High School. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man. He was super cool, funny, charming, good looking, loved video games, movies and pretty much all the other things I loved. For weeks before we finally started "dating" we had witty conversations about life and love and writing. It was amazing. Then we met and it was even better then just talking. IT was amazing. I started thinking, I'm probably not good enough for him, he's so much older and more mature then I am, he's too good looking for me, he's too smart for me, etc, etc. All relationships probably go through that phase but the real problem for me, the one that drove me away from him slowly and surely was the fact that he constantly compared me to his ex girlfriend and asking me to compare him to my ex. Not in a mean way like, "You're not as pretty as she is." But I think slightly worse, like, " My ex girlfriend used to do that, I'm really glad you don't do that." It plays a trick on my mind because suddenly, I'm thinking, "oh no, I shouldn't do that!" Even if it was something completely mundane like wearing jeans without pockets or the size of a certain body part. If he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have thought my ex boyfriend was anything special but suddenly I was comparing, just like he was! And finding faults with him I normally wouldn't have even cared for.

I'm not saying comparisons are completely bad, they're a good way to count your blessings, a way to make an intelligent decision. But when the comparisons become nitpicking, it can become tiring. It makes it impossible to love or be loved for whom you are. People can get lost in the comparisons.

Have any of you ever been compared to an ex or done the comparing?