This is me, venting and complaining about all the things I never say out loud.

(This is really disorganized and not well thought out at all.)

Everytime we have a fight, I think back to that night when he was trying to help me write a song. He was so patient and had such an amazing way of explaining it. I was already becoming greatly attached to him as a friend because we'd been spending so much time together. I already knew him as fun and adventurous, with creative ideas and who needed to have lots of projects going on. So much like me. But the instant I saw this new, gentle, generous and caring side to him, I was done. Game over. This was it. I was fallen.

Now I've always been the kind who flights instead of fights. I hate relationships for the same reasons I don't want kids. I am selfish and I don't like settling for other than exactly what I want. I hate giving in. Why shouldn't I have things exactly the way I want? It usually means I can't be with other people because I won't compromise for them, but who is that hurting besides myself? It's my loss, being alone, right? And if that's my choice, then why should anyone else be bothered? Except that I met this guy and I want him to be in my life, so I make sacrifices. I try to do nice things for him and compromise things I want. I can't stand clutter around the apartment- for whatever reason, I can really only understand it existing in the work room. So the bottles on top of the vanity in the bathroom aren't my favorite thing, but that's where he wants to keep them, so fine. I really can't stand the piles of junk all over the bookshelf with the radio, but that's where he wants to unload his pockets, so I made a space for his clutter. He takes all of the remotes out, I put them away. Instead of getting mad and complaining that the VCR remote is always on the coffee table even though it's only touched on Thursdays, I put it away because I'm the one that doesn't want so many remotes out. We made an agreement that I would dust and sweep and keep the bedroom, living room and work room clean, and he would manage the kitchen and bathroom. In the time I've vacuumed and kept my area a total of 4 times now, the kitchen and bathroom have been cleaned once. By me. Maybe I'm anal, but I like things the way I like them. And I realize that that's my taste and that just because we love each other doesn't mean we're the exact same person with the same standards. I'm the one that chooses to like things a certain way, and he shouldn't be punished for that. And in the past, rather than deal with this stuff, rather than get upset, I'd just end the relationship. It seems petty because these are such trivial things, but when it's your everyday life, it becomes kind of a big deal. Is it better to be alone and not deal with any of it? But I think the value I get from him- the love and happiness he does give me- are more important that not getting upset about having too many remotes on the coffee table.

So now I realize I need to figure out how to not get upset. How do I control myself and learn not to care when it looks like me like he's taking his unemployment as just an extended vacation, sleeping in, watching movies. He has made a few big accomplishments- the video he edited for ab looked great and he worked really hard on it and I'm really proud of that. He has put a TON of stuff on half.com, which is outrageously tedious and time consuming, and by selling that stuff, he's not only making a bit of money, he's clearing up much needed space in the apartment, which I totally appreciate. He's been trying to get a lot of exercise in, which I'm really proud of. There is so much I do love and appreciate and adore, and I don't tell him enough.

I feel myself turning into my own mother all the time- my entire life, nothing was good enough for her. She was constantly criticizing my every move and it drove me insane. And now I'm doing it to him and it's really not fair.