I've never been able to hold a grudge any longer than I can hold my breath. It's true; during fights with my brother, my friends, and now my husband, I'm usually the one who forgets that we were even arguing, let alone the reason for the argument.

Eric is slower to forget. There have been many occasions in our relationship in which I've gotten angry, yelled, felt bad, apologized, and was on to something new before Eric was even finished getting angry. When he erupts, I'm often startled, for I've already let the matter completely go; his longer-lived furor terrifies me.

Maybe it's a matter of poor memory; I'm always able to forgive and forget, because the forgetting makes the forgiving come naturally.

"Oh, you're messing with me now, man? You want a piece of me?"
"Yeah, I want a piece of you! You want a piece of this?"
Thwack.
Thwack. "Ow!"
Thwack.
Thwack. "OUCH! My arm!"
"Are you okay? I thought we were playing!"
"We were - Ow! That hurts! I'm done playing now."

Eric has a stormier nature. I learned this from the beginning; once, when we were dating, I jumped out at him from behind a corner as a practical joke, and found myself suddenly being slammed back against a row of lockers, completely taken aback. He had no idea who was jumping at him, and he reacted swiftly and with anger. Of course, he apologized profusely, but I considered it a lesson well-learned.

Sometimes the ferocity of his anger frightens me. I'm no shrinking violet myself, but I don't let things simmer nearly as long as he does before erupting. I am not a good poker player; my emotions lurk too near the surface for me to have any hope of hiding them. When I'm upset, I let it all out, and then I feel better. Eric, on the other hand, will push things down until they're unbearable, and then explode and remain volatile for long periods. During these times, I've learned, it's better just to keep out of his way than to try to calm him down; simply because slamming doors is my outlet doesn't mean that the same technique will improve his mood. Those moments are not good opportunities for suggestion in the first place.

Perhaps the hardest thing for me to learn, as a partner, is the necessity of allowing a loved one their moments of unhappiness. I still struggle with Eric's moments of depression, as well as his occasional fits of anger and moodiness. It's not my job to pull him out of those moments, nor am I always welcome to try, but learning to leave well enough alone was, and is, tough for me.

"Did you see that guy? He almost cut me off!"  HONK!
"Eric, it's okay. Just calm down."
"I don't want to calm down! That son of a - "
"He's gone now. Just forget it."
"Don't tell me to forget it! Don't you tell me that!"

Why is it that I have trouble allowing him the same range of emotions that I embrace myself? Why can't I let him be mad?