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The first quarrel is always the scariest.
Our relationship always revolved around schoolwork, since we spent a lot of time studying together. When we stepped into one of our Major's last semesters, we took up a Philosophy course – a course in which students are often pitted against each other in a test of wits. That was when we had our first spat with each other. We disagreed with each other when we had a heated mock debate in class. The issue wasn't resolved by the end of the bell, and – just like the geeks we were – we continued the bickering long after we left the classroom. We ended up going our separate ways in a huff, and we didn't talk to each other for days after that. I know, it sounds silly, arguing over something that should've been done as homework. But it was our first quarrel, and it scared me to death. Since then, our disagreements spread beyond schoolwork. We started arguing over the time we spent together, how often we called up each other, and whether or not I should go to church with her. I was an atheist back then, and I pretty much disagreed with religion in all its forms – that drove her crazy most of all. I figured that if we kept talking about our problems with each other, we'd eventually arrive at a solution. After all, that was how we did things in school – the longer we stuck with a problem, the easier it was to find the answer. Instead of finding answers, our fights kept escalating in number and intensity. No amount of reasoning could make things more amiable between us. In the end, fed up with the endless bickering, she did something I never expected her to do.
She broke up with me.
There are so many things they don't teach you in school.
I was devastated when the relationship ended. All of a sudden I was dealing with the void she left – an empty space that suffocated me every moment of the day. A few days after the breakup, I decided to apologize. If I did, I probably stood a chance of getting her back. To my confusion, the more I tried to get her back, the more she wanted to stay away from me. No amount of calling, reasoning, or pleading could make her come back. Even the gifts I bought for her came flying back at me, figuratively and literally. I was lost. I was doing everything they taught me in school, but I couldn't get her back. Even the advice I found on the Internet wasn't enough – until I read about T.W. Jackson.
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