Between Me and You.

Our disputes. Arguments. Fights. That's what I called them.
You referred to them as discussions or disagreements.
I always feared these because to me an intense and often heated discussion was not a good thing. Growing up in a matriarchal household it was what we did.
Argued. Constantly.
And it wasn't good for the soul. For the heart.
If my mother argued with my father, it wasn't passionate. It was bitter. Ugly. It was what I knew.

I did not know two people could have a heated discussion and it was just that.
I thought it meant the end of something (positive) and the beginning of something else (negative). My views of positive and negative were, and still are, all over the place. When we would disagree I would get angry, frustrated and believe we were arguing; thereby ending something (what it was) and beginning something else (what it wasn't). I did not know that a man and a woman could disagree, argue even, and it be ok. It always spelled the e-n-d for me.

Thankfully my view on this is shifting.