Writing Prompt Wednesday #126

Write a story about two characters who have been fighting for so long, they can’t remember what started it.https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/general/write-a-story-about-two-characters-who-have-been-f/
    Her eyes blaze. Then again, when do her eyes not blaze? Her angry words catch in my chest, lump in my throat. Whereas they might’ve once set me alight with her—a match to a puddle of gasoline—now, they just make me tired. How long have we been having this same argument? This same fight but in different fonts? I sigh.
    “What?” she snaps in response.
    “I’m tired.”
    “Then go to bed.”
    “I don’t mean sleepy. I’m tired, Jaden.” I run a hand down my face. “What is this?”
    “I could ask you the same question.”
    “Do you even remember why we’re fighting over this?”
    Her brows furrow and her mouth opens, ready to jump into another heated retort, but nothing comes out. She pauses, frowning. “I—I asked if you, if we, could talk about our future and you said—”
    “I listened. And I said that marriage wasn’t something that I could ever do, and you kept telling me you wanted it. Hell, Jaden, we’ve been having this same fight every day for three months.”
    “Not every day,” she pouts. “There’s been some good days.”
    “Some,” I concede. “But they’re always ruined by the bad ones. The wondering when the next fight is going to be.” She doesn’t have anything to say to that. “I’m tired of fighting with you all the damn time.”
    “Me too.”
    “So we need to stop this, love.” I cross my arms. “I don’t want to keep fighting. I know it hurts you, and I’m sorry for that, but I’ll never get married.”
    Her eyes light with angry fire once more. “See, this is why we keep fighting. You’re so fucking stubborn. Have you even thought this through at all? No, you’ve just made up your mind.”
    “That’s not true,” I say as gently as I can. “I’ve thought about it every day since we’ve been together. I wish that I could change this. If nothing else, it’d make you happy. But I can’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “You know about my parents.”
    “Why does it matter what happened to them? We’re different.”
    “We’ve fought for three months straight, and we’re not even engaged. What’s to stop it from becoming ten, twenty, thirty years if we’re married?”
    “So what? You’re just…giving up on all of this?”
    “I’m not saying that—”
    “But you are. Marriage is a part of the deal for me,” she says. “I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a little girl. I need that commitment, that agreement to keep trying.”
    “And a relationship isn’t enough?”
    “No, it’s not. If you think that you’re going to get trapped with me, then it’s not.” She hunches into herself. “If marriage is a deal-breaker for you, then we can’t keep doing this.”
    “Yeah,” I say. “I guess it is.”
    She looks up at me, her eyes wide and scared—as much as she tries to hide it. It breaks my heart. I wish that things could be different, but I don’t tell her that. “So…we’re done?”
    “Yeah,” I sigh. “We’re done.”