Too much trouble

When King and I got together, I was a mess.  My room was piles of clean, worn but still smells good, and dirty.  I left stuff all over the bathroom sink, toilet seats up, several different types of shampoos and soaps.  My kitchen table was covered in mail and papers.  My sink was always full of dishes “soaking”.  Trash would be taken out when it started to fight back….you get the idea, right?  We moved and he started making comments on things he didn’t like.  I adjusted accordingly.  Some things took a bit longer to break the habit but eventually I was molded in to what he wanted.  That is how this works…or so I was told.  We moved again to a 2 bedroom house.  My kids shared one and we shared another.  This was our first time in over a year of dating and living together that we shared a room. Shared a closet. Shared a bathroom? Hahahaha…no bathroom.  I still had to get up at night and use my kids bathroom, not the one conviently located in OUR room. Another year goes by and he is ready for me to bring my toothbrush over, maybe my hair brush.  At some point in time I had left my slippers sticking out from under the bed. He almost tripped over them (uh…okay) so he threw a temper tantrum, packed some clothes and MY DOG up and went to his friends house 10 hrs away for a week. I learned my “lesson” (that he’s an over grown toddler fucking crybaby). My shoes and slippers are all tucked under the bed now. I have changed almost everything I do and how I run the house for him.  I am honestly happier with all the changes and have morphed into some neurotic housekeeper now.  I have a sense of pride….that’s not what this whole rant is about though. 

When I got him, HE was a mess. Dissappear for weeks on end, high on a meth bender, drunk from the time he woke up to the time he went to bed.  He had this sour odor from all the poison he put in his body.  He had a gambeling problem losing 20k in one night…. We had children together and when I found out I was pregnant with the first one, I wanted to terminate. He begged and pleaded that I give him children.  I was not about to have this trainwreck for a father to MY babies. He quit going to casinos, quit drinking hard alcohol, quit using dope.. these are big changes! 

Now he is clean and sober for 3 going on 4 years! I am very proud of him! He is in school and about to graduate!  

Now here is where my ACTUAL rant starts. 

I made a burpal wreath. He said it looked like a turd. I added color to it. He still hates it.  Went as far as to asking me to get rid of it. Turns out, he hates most of the decorations…so, while he was at work, I took everything down. This has made all of his started but never finished projects smack you in the face. He gets pissed, says I’m being a bitch.  It may have been the smile thay I gave him when he commented on it.  I have been told that I can be terrifying when I’m pissed smiling.  I told him I am just making more changes to who I am and what I like for him.  He tosses his jacket on the arm of the couch, 3 feet away from his coat hook. I jave asked him over and over to hang it.  Fuck, I am not allowed to leave something on my couch. Him…he will have his backback, 2 coats and a sweater piled up there.  I once had a zip up hoodie and a jacket hanging on the back of my chair and I was “hoarding” jackets. So now I fight back.  He tosses his jacket on the couch and I immediatly hang it. He bitches that it’s easier for him. I don’t care. I don’t like it. He does it again…I can do this alllll day fucker.  Next up, the shower curtian.  Close that motherfucker so it can dry properly asshole!  

I will slowly break his spirit the same way he broke mine. 

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