This is how my husband and I refer to our massive fights. To date, we’ve had four? Five? I’m not sure. To date should also be given the caveat of “…after 35 years of marriage…” because we are that couple. We just don’t fight. We are good together and know it. We argue over who has the better sense of humor (me). We travel well together. We’re good company. We’re still gooey-in love. This is why when we do have one of our “knock down drag outs” (as well call them)–our multi-day discord– we both come away from it exhausted. This weekend was one of these oh-so-rare full-blown fights.

No, we don’t knock each other down or drag each other out. I told him when we first started dating that hitting me once meant it was over. My man is a gentle soul. He hardly ever raises his voice. We’re so good together it makes our friends sick; kissing, snuggling, holding hands, especially after 35 years together? Yes. I can see how they might feel more comfortable if there was a comfortable distance, a coolness that’s not only common among people married for a very long time, but it’s also practically expected. We don’t have that.

This is not to say we are the same as we were 35 years ago. No. The passion has turned into a deep sense of ease. We’ve become each other’s blankets. We are comfortable. I remember announcing to a man visiting the company I worked at that we were going to be that couple that stayed in love forever. I was 22 and newly engaged. He told me, “All engaged people think that. It’ll change over time.” I was adamant and told him how wrong he was—at 22 I was snapping back to a guest of the company—sorry for all the bad press I’ve given you Gen Z. I was a piece of work myself.

This is the first year I’ve sensed a change in our marriage. We are settling into a pattern. Not settling as in putting up with but settling as in “the ground has settled in place over decades” type of comfort finds in the familiar.

We’re both feeling old. We bought a townhouse so now to go anywhere we must go up and down stairs. That’s good exercise (blah blah blah) and it shows, but it doesn’t change our overall weariness.

Our weekend knock down drag out notwithstanding, I’d marry this man all over again. Oh, he is so incredibly annoying at times. I am a bit of pill as well. Still, 35 good years don’t get tossed aside because we had a few words.