I've been there, and that's exactly what it's like. The irrational and almost nonsensical yelling - because you're never fighting about what you're really fighting about. The avoidance of eye contact - staring at objects you've never stared at before. Playing the argument like a chess game, trying to anticipate the ending and figure out how to steer it without making it worse. Being so... aww shit, Bonnie says it better:

Who’ll take the only hearts they got
And throw them into the fire?
Who’ll risk their own self respect
In the name of desire?
Who’ll regret everything they’ve done
And who will get the bill?
Lovers will
Who’ll hurt each other all the time
And never give it a thought?
Who’ll lie about where they’ve been
And hope they never get caught?
Who’ll say each other’s kisses
No longer thrill?
Lovers will
Lovers will do almost anything
For the thrill that only love can bring
If love is a healer, who’ll be the first ones ill?
Lovers will
Who’ll never know what they’ve got
Until it’s just about gone?
And whose arms will gather up what’s left
To carry on?
And who’ll stalk that little bit of love
That hasn’t been killed?
Lovers will