quirks and what not
This is my first relationship where I live with the person I’m in a relationship with. Those who have lived with someone who is not from the family will know that at times it can be quite unbearable to live with someone else. What am I saying?? Living with someone from the family can down right be a pain in the ass too. Sometimes I wonder if we’re better off living by ourselves from the day that we know how to feed and clothe ourselves.
Anyways.
One thing that is a bit bothersome and slightly confusing about living with Fredrik is the fact that he cares about how I eat.
At one point in time he used to get upset about how much I eat. He didn’t like the idea that I can out eat him. But I have days when I have a hollow leg and when I want to eat, no one is going to tell me that I’m not eating. My own parents don’t tell me when I can and cannot eat. I grew up in a household where you eat when you want to. Although everyone sits down for dinner together. Fortunately Fredrik got over me possibly out eating him.
But just now while we were having fried rice, he comments that we’re not in an eating competition in the most irritated tone. I was more confused by the fact that someone cared about the way I ate. My parents never cared enough to be bothered by it. My mom used to laugh at me for swallowing too big of a bite because I’m sitting at the table, hitting my chest with my fist, trying to get the food down the esophagus. But she was never offended, just called me an idiot. Fredrik was actually a bit offended. I find it so confusing to deal with.
For those who are of like mind, I must point this out, how you eat your food is not my problem. You could suck it up with your nose for all I care.
I suppose I should be nicer and try to eat at a “decent” pace. But the problem is… I don’t even notice when I do the things that I do. It’s like when I had no idea that my nose was whistling when I breathed (We’ll save that for another time.), I had NO IDEA! I guess I’ll just hope that he gets over it and learns not to care about the way people eat. At least I don’t chew with my mouth open.





