Got bitched out.. again.

I forget to do little things, and I get bitched out. I mean, I understand the frustration because I do forget the little things quite a bit. I try, though. I ******** do try.

Whatever, tho; It's always how bad I am. It's never good job, james. Never acknowledging I did something right, nope. I get told what I did wrong, or how I'm pissing her off. I do want her to tell me things. Little things will tear the relationship apart; but ********, man.

If I criticize her, she gets incredibly defensive and gets upset, so I don't say anything.. and yet she shits all over me. I did tell her I wanted her to be open with me. I guess I didn't expect I was this much of a ******** up?

She even ******** said, "How did I end up with xxx" and I stopped listening after that. Not going to be one of those couples. No chance in hell am I going to be here in 10 years listening to "HOW DID I END UP LIKE THIS", ******** that. I've seen the scenario play out so many times, I'm self-aware.

Not sure what I'm going to do. I'll figure something out, though. This room is big enough, I could very likely fit a small bed or futon in here, if I absolutely had to.

I just get tired of everything always being my fault.

I know she does a lot of work around the house. I know she does damn near all the chores.. but a lot of the cleaning is her own damn messes. I'm messy, yeah.. but I contain it to this room. The rest of the entire house is her, except for parts of the kitchen.. I do leave my boxes and s**t, but every time I come home, my room is ******** trashed.. and I just get tired of the mess. I get tired of cleaning it every day, so I let it sit.. and by day 2, the mess has spread so bad it'll take me a day off to clean it all.

I get frustrated seeing how dirty the house constantly is. I have so much s**t going on in my head. She does too.

Everyone does. That's why I don't get mad at her or raise a big s**t storm or nag her about her messes, because she has s**t going on and she does a lot around here, so I can forgive it.

I don't know. If you can't find the problem in a situation, it's likely you. So, I guess I'm the problem. Wouldn't be the first time, likely won't be the last.

On the plus side, I *have* been preparing myself for a life of solitude since I was 8, so there's that. Even if I'm just secluded in my own room, sharing the house with her, I don't care; I'll buy a nice pair of headphones, and have my music. I'll go get groceries on my own, and I'll just not leave the house except for work; no big deal.