Trader and I are in a bit of a bind these days. On a gross twist of fate, his parents now hate  mine even though they’ve never even met, because they think my parents are mayabang (arrogant).

Of course, Trader was caught in between, and the whole debacle had his parents ordering him to break up with me because the apple doesn’t really fall far from the tree. “You don’t just marry the woman. You marry her family as well,” they insisted.

I personally think that it’s a big misunderstanding that shouldn’t had happened if Trader and I were a tad bit more careful. It’s just sad that this has happened.

Now, it’s safe to say that arguments happen all the time. What makes a couple stronger or not is how they handle it. Can they talk peacefully? Do they shut each other out? How much contempt do they use in the conversation?

Tonight’s argument was a comedy of errors so to speak, and for which I am very very sorry. My style of communication is to face the issue head’s on. Mainly, talk about it. I like dialogue. When something is bothering me, I like to air it out, get somebody else’s opinion, mix it on my own and then make a decision.

Trader’s style is mulling it over.

He thinks about it on his own, mulls and sleeps on it, and then makes an even more decisive decision than I do. Hence, you can see where this is going — I’d like to talk about this issue, while he’s busy with other stuff and is pretty much occupied in trying not to think too much about it.

And of course, I got pissed.

I shut my computer down, read Dan Brown before taking a long hot shower where I practically stewed and started to think on whether I should just apply for London Business School and get it over with. My mind started drifting, as to what I’m planning to do in the next couple of months and if all this is really worth it.

All silly stuff really. Truth be told, Trader is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I think it will be because of him that life will become a lot more peaceful and happier to me.

I found it weird that there’s no word from Trader. It was only after showering and reading Dan Brown that I saw this on my phone:

18 missed calls from Trader! Two SMSs and one email.

My heart sank.

My phone was mistakenly in silent mode so I didn’t hear anything. At worst, I was in the bath thinking that he doesn’t care and so on and so forth.

He called back 10 seconds later. I picked up.

“Dee, are you okay?” he nervously asked. “I have been trying to call you for an hour.”

I am so so so so so sorry baby. I really am.

We talked about our issues with me on my darkened living room sofa, and him on his bed. We talked about the issue head on, spoke about Plan Bs and immediately chucked that idea, and wondered how parents can be so sly as to drive us apart without them doing far too much.

The issue these days is admittedly threatening to break us apart. I don’t want to underestimate the influence of parents over their kids. The issue we faced is when a kid starts thinking on his own and say, “Wait, you’re asking me to make too hard a decision. Can we find a middle ground?”

I underestimate Trader, and for that I am sorry. I should give him more credit than is due, knowing that if it comes to that, yes, he will fight for me, and for us. IF it came to that, and we really hope that it wouldn’t. 

Then, I look back on the 18 missed calls, 2 SMSs and 1 email plus the call I picked up. I think I’m foolish. Very much so.

I’m foolish to underestimate the power of love. Our love.

At the end of the day, what’s important is that we cultivate our relationship. That we take very good care of it and hold our hands tight when shit hits the fan as it often does. Sure, we do treat problems differently, but our love for each other is the same. And when we do misunderstand, the most important thing is to track back and realize what’s the more important thing in our equation.

Sure, the next few weeks will be tough. Who would want to have her boyfriend’s parents dislike her even though they haven’t even met, and to not her own fault as well.

However, it’s my deepest prayer that together, Trader and I can brave the storm and face it head on. Trader tells me the best solution is that I impress the socks out of his parents. Given that their success factors is a more domesticated, subdued woman, I think I’m fighting a losing battle, but hell, we’re going to try.

Wish me luck guys, and here’s hoping that your week is better than mine.