Frustrated tempest in a teacup

Garh! Yesterday was not a nice day. It began well - with a lovely walk to the sea, and up the hill that will be our new home, and a nice bus ride with a bunch of silver-haired retirees, who all got a free senior fare, while I had to pay almost 5 quid to finance the entire bus load's journey. But it was gorgeous and sunny and the air was February clear, and the sea was crusty and rolly and zesty, and everyone was smiling, even the creepy heroin-addled street people. But in the evening, after I'd had good long talks with both my good friend in the states and my best friend here in the UK, when partner got home, we had a good rip-roaring fight about our eternal Fight Spark issue, and as a result, I offered to spend the night elsewhere, and then he offered to spend the night elsewhere, and instead we ate in pretty icy silence and he went to bed at 9, and at 4 AM, I finally fell asleep on the sofa. And in the morning, dammit, it still wasn't solved, which is just the most discouraging start to a day ever. And now I'm awake earlier than I want to be, and sleep deprived, and discouraged. And worried we've done serious damage this time. Because we told truths and they hurt, and I'm not sure where we go from here. Garh. That's all I have to say at the moment.