A field report on leaks, avoidance, and wisdom from unexpected places
Last month, I called my landlord because my kitchen faucet was leaking. Not a cute, cinematic drip-drip — this was an aggressive, you’re-about-to-pay-for-this-in-your-water-bill situation.
He shows up with his tool bag, muttering about “cheap washers” and “people who don’t take care of their stuff.”
The Scene
While he’s half under my sink, we start talking about relationships. (As one does, apparently, while holding a wrench.)
I tell him I’m single again. I make a joke about “men being like faucets — they start off strong, then leak all over your life.”
He laughs, then says, totally seriously:
“Thing about leaks is… they never fix themselves. They just get worse the longer you wait. And once the damage spreads, it’s a lot harder — and more expensive — to fix.”
The Record Scratch Moment
My landlord is not a philosopher. He’s a 62-year-old guy who wears cargo shorts year-round and says “warsh” instead of “wash.”
But in that moment? He became the Socrates of my kitchen.
Because here’s the truth: I’ve waited on a lot of “relationship leaks.”
The Relationship Parallel
I’ve:
- Ignored the constant drip of disrespect because it was “small.”
- Tolerated inconsistent effort, telling myself it would get better on its own.
- Waited for someone to “just realize” how to show up for me without actually asking for change.
And just like my faucet, the problem didn’t magically resolve itself. It spread — into resentment, into anxiety, into that sick feeling you get when you know you should’ve handled it months ago.
Why This Hit Harder Than Therapy
My therapist once gave me a beautiful metaphor about “emotional gardens” and “watering what you want to grow.” Lovely. Poetic. But my landlord? He gave me a visual I can’t unsee: a rotting cabinet under a sink because no one wanted to deal with the leak early.
The Lesson
Sometimes wisdom doesn’t come from the people with the fancy degrees or the perfect lighting in their office. Sometimes it comes from a guy holding a wrench in your kitchen who just knows how things work.
The key isn’t who says it — it’s whether you’re willing to hear it.
Your Challenge This Week
Look at your life — and your love life — and ask:
- Where’s the leak?
- What am I pretending will “fix itself”?
- What would it take to address it now, before the damage spreads?
And then, for the love of your cabinets (and your sanity), get the wrench out.
xoxo
Ares
P.S. The faucet’s fine now. My dating life? Work in progress.
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