Colorado road trip: Day three

The first thing Joseph said to me on the morning of our third day road tripping was the last thing I would ever want to wake up to hearing.

“I didn’t want to wake you last night because I didn’t want to scare you,” Joseph said. 

“Okay,” I said uneasily. “What is it?”  He pulled out his phone, opened his photos app, and clicked on a video recording from last night. When he clicked play, the sounds of at least a dozen dogs barking filled the tent.

“They were everywhere,” Joseph said. “They were so loud they woke me up.”

“We had coyotes around our tent,” I exclaimed. Joseph laughed and nodded. 

Despite that alarming start to our day, we and all of our belongings were fine. The two of us got ready and went for a 5K run to stretch our legs before sitting in the car all day. After the run, we jumped into the lake in our bathing suits to cool off and bathe for the first time on this trip. Despite the murky water and mud squishing between my toes, it was actually quite refreshing, and I felt surprisingly clean afterwards. We made some oatmeal for breakfast, and then we started driving to the destination we have been looking forward to: Colorado. 

I dozed in the car as Joseph listened to a podcast about his enneagram. We stopped in an iHop parking lot so I could teach my yoga class. 

As I was teaching, I watched Joseph with curiosity. He had the hood open and was moving about the car, seemingly hard at work. When I finished teaching, he excitedly showed me what he had been up to.

Do you remember that cigarette lighter we blew on the first day of our trip? We have been struggling to get enough power to charge any of our electronics since then. Today, Joseph had the brilliant idea of trying to fix the cigarette lighter himself, something I didn’t think could be done. He found a YouTube video about where to find the fuse box in his car, which had extra fuses for the cigarette lighter in it. Without any prior experience, he switched the fuse in the cigarette lighter and it worked! Now, we have enough power to charge everything we need for the rest of this trip.

Now, the main concern is the car brakes. We have been hearing a soft grinding noise in the back right tire, and when we looked at it today, we saw rust had covered about an inch of the rotor. After consulting some family and friends who are mechanics, we have decided to let it go for now, but if it gets worse, we will have to get it fixed during this trip. 

The rest of the day was spent driving, driving, and driving some more. Kansas is beautiful, but the long flat roads surrounded by cornfields start to get old after a few hours. 

“How are we still in Kansas,” I asked in exasperation. 

“This is how it is,” Joseph said jokingly. “You’re in Kansas for, like, eight days, and then you finally get to Colorado.” 

We stopped at a gas station, where I filled our water bottles with a pump. The thing is, I have never used a water pump, so when I attempted it, the water sprayed all over me. Joseph,  who was filling our tires with air,  started laughing hysterically. But, honestly, after sitting in the hot car all day, it felt so refreshing. I would have sat under that spigot and just let the water run over me if it had been socially acceptable to do so. The heat was so oppressive today that by the time I finished filling the water bottles and returned to the car, my clothes were completely dry.

Two hours outside of Colorado, we decided to revisit the enneagram by listening to podcasts about each of our numbers. I insisted we listen to Joseph’s first. 

But, as we got further into it, his comments began to rub me the wrong way. He would agree with it and point out things about himself, saying, “Yes, that’s what I need!” and “That is so me!” The comments themselves were fine – they are actually what is to be expected when someone is learning more about himself. But I felt like they were directed at me, as if I did not  already know who he was. I felt like he was telling me what he needed because he felt I was not currently giving that to him, and that hurt me. 

These feelings probably came up for me because this was not an isolated incident. Just the night before,  Joseph told me that he felt like his love tank was not full. I was so surprised to hear that, considering we just got engaged a little over a week ago and we have been spending so much time together since then. His top love language is quality time, so it didn’t make sense why his love tank would not be full. Joseph’s secondary love language is physical touch, but I also felt like I had been loving him just as much as usual in this area as well. The two of us have agreed to wait until marriage to have sex, not necessarily because of religion, but because we want to learn all the other ways to love one another before having sex, because we know at that time, sex will most likely become the default way to show love. So, I can’t give him that, but that doesn’t mean I have not been able to show him love in other ways. And this pact is nothing new, so I was confused as to why, after over a year of dating, this was suddenly a problem. Joseph always told me I do a good job of loving him. Why would his love tank be decreasing after we got engaged and while we were on the trip of a lifetime? 

I’m not sure how it came out. I don’t remember what was said or how it came up, but before I knew it, we were pulled over on a side dirt road, tears running down my face, and both of us yelling at each other. It felt like one of the worst fights we had ever had. Joseph didn’t understand why I wasn’t happy, why I wasn’t enjoying learning more about our personalities and how that manifests in our relationship, and he hated that I was hurt, but he didn’t know what he had done wrong. I was distraught that I had apparently not loved him well; I didn’t understand what I had done wrong, and I was hurt that my fiancé seemed to believe that I didn’t already know how to love him well. And, perhaps, I was hurt that maybe that was true. It had always been one of my main goals to make sure he felt loved, and to hear that I failed in that area was devastating to me. 

We got back into the car and continued our drive, tense, exhausted and hurt. The last few days of sleep deprivation and being stuck in the car all day had taken its toll. We each spoke our minds, but neither of us seemed to have the energy to actually solve the problem. After a few minutes of just sitting in an exhausted and uncomfortable silence, I turned to him.

“Can we just get out of that place and start over from here,” I asked.

“Yes, please,” Joseph said. “I hate this. What is happening to us?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think we’re tired.”

“Yes, like I so want to talk to you about this, but I can’t even think through what you’re saying,” Joseph said.

“Same,” I agreed. “I don’t want to be mad at you.”

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Joseph said. “This is awful.”

“Okay, we’ve both said our peace, right,” I asked.

“Yes.”

“So, let’s just start from here. If you don’t feel loved, for whatever reason, you have to tell me. And then we will work through it.”

“And if you don’t feel loved, you have to tell me,” Joseph said. I agreed, and we both took a deep breath. 

“You want to finish listening to the podcast,” I asked. 

“Yes, I do.” Joseph turned it back on, and we listened through the last fifteen minutes. When we finished, Joseph asked what I thought. 

“It’s definitely you,” I said. “It makes a lot of sense. Especially the part about how you have to remind yourself to be a human ‘being,’ not a human ‘doing.’ I have literally heard you say that.”

“Yeah, there’s so many things that I heard that are things that I have said before, without even knowing that it was a part of my enneagram,” Joseph said. “And that whole part about just wanting affirmation. That’s all I want from people – to know that I did a good job.” I paused for a moment, studying him. 

“Joseph, did I thank you enough for our engagement,” I asked. “I mean, did I let you know how much it meant to me?”

“Yeah, I mean, I put a lot of work into it, but you did tell me,” he said. “But, then, I put a lot of work into this trip, too. And I just don’t feel like you noticed.” 

“I didn’t realize you needed to hear that,” I said. “Of course I noticed! You put so much work into this trip. But, so did I, and I didn’t expect you to thank me for it. We did it together.” I paused, thinking. “Are you sure your top love language isn’t words of affirmation?” Joseph stared at me. 

“Maybe,” he said slowly. 

“I mean, you told me your love tank wasn’t full, but we have spent every moment together. And we have had just as much physical touch as we always do. But, I didn’t affirm you about how amazing your proposal was and how well you did at planning this trip, and suddenly your love tank isn’t full.” We were silent for a moment, thinking. 

“Let’s try something,” I said. I grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze and a long, tender kiss. Then, I looked deep into his eyes and said, “Joseph, thank you so much for your proposal. It was the proposal of my dreams. I could not have asked for more. It was so amazing, I couldn’t even believe it was for me. You love me so well. And thank you for how much thought and preparation you put into this trip. I was so nervous, but you put in so much work to make me feel comfortable and I really appreciate it.” 

“Thank you,” Joseph said sincerely, and I could see his eyes filled with what almost looked like relief. 

“Which thing meant more to you,” I asked. 

“Which what?”

“Did you even notice that I did two different things,” I asked. Joseph stared at me. “I grabbed your hand and kissed it, and then I affirmed you.” 

“I didn’t even think about you holding my hand,” Joseph said, surprised. “What you said meant everything to me. That filled my cup.”

I always thought it was strange that Joseph didn’t have words of affirmation as his top love language. He has always said that what makes him feel loved is when I listen to him and make him feel seen and heard, yet he has always insisted that his love languages were quality time and physical touch. 

Everyone seems to think that when two people get engaged, their relationship is supposed to be perfect, full of smiles and laughter. And it is, but it’s also filled with struggle, hurt, and difficult conversations. The point is that we know we want to spend the rest of our lives together, despite those challenging times. And today’s fight was actually super important for our relationship. We learned how I could better love Joseph, and when Joseph feels loved, it better enables him to love me well. When we were fighting, it felt like something broke between us, and maybe it did. But, an hour later, it was mended stronger than it was before.

There is no doubt that there will be many more fights, even worse than today’s argument. But I  have no doubt that I want to marry this man, because I know we are both dedicated to working through it and learning how to love each other better. That’s why I said “yes” when he asked me to marry him – not because we are perfect, but because we both recognize we aren’t and that actually makes us stronger. 

I would love to say that the rest of the drive was without any more challenges, but that is not the case. As we drove down the scenic highway, gazing out at the mountains in the distance, both of our cups were filled. Our only annoyance were the mosquitos buzzing around our heads. We slapped at them, hitting the car windows and doors and missing nearly every time. I missed one, and it flew over to Joseph’s side and landed on the windshield. Joseph formed a fist and hit the glass. 

The crack shocked us both. We stared, mouths agape, as it spiderwebbed across the glass. For a moment, we were both still. The mosquito flew away between us, triumphant. Joseph  and I looked at each other, and then we both burst into incredulous laughter. I suppose we will have to get that fixed soon, too.

We drove into Blanca, Colorado, and made it to our campsite. The road, however, was far too rough for our car, and the campsite was crowded with people, so we turned around and drove to our back-up choice. By this point, it was late and we were both exhausted. We had not eaten in eight hours, our bodies ached, and we were ready to go to bed. But when we finally made it down the dirt road, the sign read “Camping prohibited.” Discouraged and weary, we drove back into town, searching for an empty parking lot where we could just sleep in the car. By the time we found a spot, it was far too late to make dinner. We each had a small snack and climbed into the back of the car, and passed out, emotionally and physically exhausted.

But we made it. After three long days, we have arrived in Colorado.