Fix it

There is something comforting about routine. You know where you will be on any given day, at any given hour. You know when you will wake up and how long it takes to get somewhere. It's comfortable, it's steady, it's easy.

I think I cling to routine out of fear of the unknown. I don't like empty hours, I don't like spontaneous change. I don't like being unprepared. I spend a lot of time worrying about whether I'm prepared.  What the hell for?

I had the terrible realisation earlier this week. My boyfriend and I had gotten into an argument, we were running late, I'm anal about time and he's not always great at being punctual. Either way, I stormed off because I was terrified of missing the train and being late on a day when I really needed to be on time. We got to where we needed to be with time to spare. We ate breakfast in silence. I apologised for being an ass over getting places on time. He shrugged.

And then he said some things that really stuck with me. I hadn't been very nice to him as of late. I'd been very quick to tell him off or say he was doing something wrong. I was cold where I would normally be affectionate.

I realised I'd been taking him for granted. I'd been so wrapped up in me and my worries and my routine that I just sort of treated him like he was a part of the furniture. I treated him as though he was always going to be around, which isn't true, there's no contract tying him forever to me. We haven't even dated for a year yet.

What struck me most is that I think that I have adopted the worst personality traits of my parents. My father is ungodly punctual. We used to be the first people at family parties, we would always be early for movies, everything was rush rush rush to make it on time. There are good things about being punctual. I think that it shows respect to other people, it shows that you value their time. It shows that you care to be where you're supposed to at the time you're supposed to be.  But it is also a pain in the ass. I need to not care so much about it. I just have no idea how to break myself of it.

My father also used to walk so fast through a crowd (generally to get to whatever destination as quickly as humanly possible) that he'd often leave us in the dust. I was doing that to my boyfriend. I knew we were late for the train and I blazed on ahead, assuming he'd catch up (and he could, if he wanted to. He's one of the few people who can walk faster than I can). He never did. He kept behind me about 15 feet, like he was afraid to talk to me or I don't know what.

My mother could be very mean to my father. She could cut him down to size, tell him exactly what it was he was doing wrong, even if he was just doing something to be silly or funny. I had been unnecessarily curt with him on some things. I had been criticising him too harshly and too frequently. It felt as though we'd been married 50 years rather than dating 11 months. I feel like there should still be magic at this point. We shouldn't be ragging on each other about stupid things. That's not something I ever want to do.

I worry that I'm turning into this little self centred monster who doesn't know how to be kind anymore. I want to surprise him with sweet little things and I'm coming up blank. I hate that. I hate not being able to think of some small thing that I could get or do to make him smile. I joke occasionally that I'm a terrible girlfriend, but the truth is, I think I really may be. How do you fix that?