This article originally appeared on VICE UK.
Arguing with your partner can be fun—a point scoring game where you can assassinate their joy based on who last bought the toilet paper. But sometimes, they're nasty: One of you accidentally fell onto someone else's penis, for instance, or the other spent their money on coke and now needs you to transfer them a $10 so they can get to work at 9 AM. There are many things couples can argue about! Those are just two completely random examples!
But they are necessary to the structure and health of your relationship. Without arguments, you’d be one of those weird couples holding hands at 65—those grandparents who fully make out in front of you. The sort of couple who go home early because "Tom isn't feeling good," or who form protective forcefields around one another in festival crowds. The ones who buy or wear rose gold Michael Kors and post anniversary statuses captioned "another year with this one!"
No: True romance is rowing until you feel so guilty you buy them a £3 [$4] coffee and provide self-deprecating oral sex for as long as required. To commemorate this cornerstone of modern romance, here are all the arguments you will ever have with your partner.
That argument where your lazy partner won't fill up the bedtime water bottle
After some spooning sex, you peel your partner's emptied genitals off your thigh. "I need water," you croak. They groan and roll over. But you got the water the last two nights. You kick aside their sapped carcass and fall asleep as far away from them as possible. The basis of succeeding in relationships is to remember each time you did something caring and tally it up so you can cash it in at any moment. Breaches of this contract are unacceptable.
That argument where you embarrass your partner in front of their friends
You absentmindedly tell their friends about that time you found a picture of their cat's asshole on their iPhone. The trust never really recovers.
That argument where your partner forces you to get along with their shitty friends
A partner’s college friends live for blocking you out of conversations by bringing up their dorm hall days. Halls were so fun. Boy, did we drink in halls. Remember when Matty was high at that techno night and asked everyone in the basement if he looked like Ed Miliband? Remember that time Sarah's nip fell out when you were all hungover watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia? Ah, halls! Halls! Halls! Halls!
You’re hanging in there until your partner tells you to get off your phone. Sorry, but Oscar has been explaining how far away his new office in an online gambling company's internal communications department is from the bathrooms for, like, 20 minutes. The fact I'm conscious is testament enough of my undying love for you.
The "can you please stop trying to make anal sex happen" argument
Seriously, it feels like shitting out a TV remote.
The "I shouldn't have to ask" argument
"Don't worry about birthday presents," you say. "Let's save up and go to Budapest for a long weekend! Or just buy me a drink next time we go out!"
Of course, this low-key, easy-breezy attitude changes immediately on the morning of the birthday: Not even a fucking pancake? Look at me eating crummy dregs of cereal. Not even some daffodils on the way back from work?
WATCH: 'Slutever' – Inside the Lives of Lifestyle Slaves
That argument when you try to be chill but your bottled-up craziness all comes out at once
No, honestly, go watch the Arsenal soccer game with the boys. I wanted to watch Saturday Night Takeaway minus Ant on my own anyway. I cannot wait to put on that fluffy robe, cup my own boob, and flick through other people's "boy done good" Instagram stories.
Passive-aggression out the way, when—to them—it seems like the argument is done and over with, you manage to hold all the wide-eyed hysteria back until the following afternoon, when they come back from the shop with semi-skimmed milk: "YOU KNOW I LIKE SKIMMED. DO YOU NOT LOVE ME?"
When you’re sober and they come home drunk
The smell of fermented Peronis dripping off their tongue as they try to lunge in for a kiss is absolutely rotten.
That argument when you’re both drunk
It's physically impossible to drink with a partner past 1 AM without arguing at least once. One of their gun fingers knocks your rum and coke onto the floor/they hold eye contact with someone you cannot immediately identify/you wait for them outside the bathroom stall and, because they have been more than two minutes, become furiously convinced they have left you.
You end the night sitting with your shoes off on muddy pavement, pretending to text people you had sex with once. If there is a guy involved, he will punch walls and kick abandoned McDonald’s paper bags around. When they approach, you storm off and lurk behind a large trash can—but you never go too far: You’re too drunk to be alone, plus you’re not paying for an Uber home by yourself.
The whole saga comes to an end when a huge guy shaped like a slice of toast, wearing a tight, bright polo shirt, asks: "Is this man bothering you?" and, not wanting your boyfriend to die, you go, "Ha ha, no he's fine, he's just an ass.
That argument where you spend too much time together and you become irrationally upset
Your partner's presence becomes a dull persistent chafing, like when it's hot outside and your sweat makes the top of your thighs stick together and rub pink. You descend into madness: You secretly get a thrill when they stub their toe. You become so enraged by every little thing they do that, all of a sudden, you inexplicably have the urge to slowly knock your head against the wall until the skin breaks, maybe just to take your mind off how awful they are?
Small problems become tooth-grindingly unbearable until you break: "Why do you never fully shut the underwear draw? Why am I always the one to change the cat's water? Why do you always get the apple-scented soap when you know it smells artificial????"
These kind of arguments are incredibly cathartic, but unfortunately—as you can surmise from the pettiness of the examples I've just given—also always make you look crazy.
That argument about whose shitty apartment you’re going to stay at
Don’t make me go there again—to the bathroom with the permanently un-flushed poo, the one with day-old piss maturing at the bottom of the bowl. Where the shower is so weak it feels like someone's dribbling lukewarm tea onto your back; where there’s no shower gel, just mangled bits of hand soap that almost definitely have specs of feces in them. You can do one if you think I’m going to fall asleep to the sound of you roommate Becky shouting, "YOU GOT MY CHARGER?" from the kitchen. "But we always go to your place!" they cry, "Sometimes, I feel like I’m the only thing keeping this relationship together."
False—the semi-regular sex and possibility of halved rent sometime in the near future is what's keeping this relationship together.
That argument because of your partner's shit taste
I am never, ever (ever) going to read those articles you send me about microdosing hallucinogenics. Stop sending them to me while I'm at work, and get yourself a job while you're at it.
That argument when one of you chews like "schwuck-schmck-uk-uk"
Are you motorboating that bowl of Cheerios or eating it? The way your teeth scrape across the spoon prevents me from concentrating on my morning Facebook scroll, and for that reason: This relationship is over.
Sign up for our newsletter to get the best of VICE delivered to your inbox daily.
Follow Annie Lord on Twitter.