ONe of my ex's use to pick peas out of the rice whenever we were out to eat. He was a big man (still is), and so, he was slumped over the table, both elbows on the wood, shuffling around peas like they were small cattle to be herded up into a loading dock onwards into a truck. Delicately, he didn't miss a single one.
I think of that whenever I think of couples complaining about each other, small habits that grind away, leave small red marks on each other's skin, eating away at togetherness.
I learned both then that his table manners didn't bother me, and that simultaneously, I preferred to eat alone.
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