December

The thing with December and I was that she was opinionated and loud and a general pain in the ass, and so was I. We argued about nearly everything and found it impossible to make decisions together or even make compromises. It was either her way or my way – there was no in between. Most of the time, I loved that about December. I loved that she was independent and not afraid to speak her own mind. I loved how blunt she was, and the way she told me exactly what she thought about everything without holding back. She was honest almost to the point of being rude, but I found it endearing.

I, like her, was opinionated and blunt and argumentative, but I don’t think December found it endearing at all. In fact, I think it was one of the things she hated the most about me because it meant that I got in her way a lot of the time.

This became especially apparent when we decided to move in together after nine months of dating each other. We’d argued for hours, days, even weeks about moving into her place or mine, that by the end of it, we had to find a new place altogether because there was no way we were ever going to settle our argument. December wanted everything to be perfect. She had this picture in her head of what our place should be like.

It was here that our troubles began. Our first trip to ikea almost killed me. Cushions, quilt covers, sheets, lamps, couches, desks. There was so much to go through and December wanted to see it all before she made her decision on what she wanted to get. We argued about what colour cushions we should get, if a leather couch would be best, the colours of the bedroom. December looked like she was ready to tear all her hair out and I was on my last nerve as well. I could’ve killed her. She was driving me completely nuts and I wanted nothing more than to just leave.

If you can survive a trip to ikea with your girlfriend without one single argument, wife that bitch.

By the end of it, I let her make our bedroom purple, I let her get the ridiculously expensive leather couch, and I agreed on the purple cushions. Because I’d rather live with purple cushions and a purple quilt cover than live without December. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

She made me carry the bags out of ikea that day. I just followed after her as she led the way to the car and opened the trunk. I placed the bags inside and shut it, before holding my hand out for the keys. December raised her eyebrows at me before a smile spread across her face. “I’m driving,” she said, and then it was my turn to raise my eyebrows at her.

“No,” I said with a small smile. She frowned and narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. “You can’t tell me what to do,” she said. I rolled my eyes and laughed.

“Come here, woman,” I smirked, tugging on her coat and pulling her to me, before pressing a kiss to her lips. She kissed me back and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. We broke apart and she just looked at me, her eyes bright. The sun made her hair look shiny like in the commercials and her smile was perfect and she was really just the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

She kissed my nose and I laughed, ruffling her hair. “I love you, December,” I said, feeling light-hearted. “I love you, too, Gabe,” she said, “even if you suck at choosing cushions.”

There were times when the fights between December and I were unbearable and I just felt like giving up, but after surviving so many trips to ikea with her, I realised how much I loved her and how much I’d be willing to give up, if it meant keeping her happy. When things fell apart between us, they had a way of putting themselves back together, just when we needed them to.