So.

I dated you for a year and half. And I see and experience these bursts of anger in you, some irrational accusations of cheating, calling me out for selfishness, choosing friends over you. With all of these accusations and anger, I recognized when you are going to blow up. I know what triggers it. I see the signs now.

So, I begin to evade people. I evade certain subjects with you. I hide my feelings a little more each day. I'm more protective of information that may lead to this emotion in you. I don't want to make waves or trigger any kind of anger. Because it was unpredictable, scary at times, damaging to me and our relationship. It often leads to us breaking up, in a hurtful way. I'll cry....everywhere imaginable. I discover things on your phone during this time. I see you still talk to certain women. Why stay in touch? Also, why stay in touch while I'm out of town? And why stay in touch when you know that it makes me uncomfortable and uneasy. I've voiced this. Even you have voiced this.

Despite these little explosions and continued relationships with women that you need to let go of, I moved in with you. I accepted the risk, truly believing that this could be good for us. I was rooting for this to work, banking on it, leading us into living together. I arranged everything. I accepted my responsibility, my piece of the argument, my defensiveness or accusations. I've never been a good fighter. But you're a pro. It's almost impressive how I can be led into it.

We move into the perfect place for us. I thought that this move-in would erase our past failures. I really thought it would heal us, be the emulsifier to our arguments. There would be no reason to not trust someone who you see all the time. No ways to lie to the face you see everyday.

However, it was a stressful summer. You had a lot of family problems, legal problems, personal problems. I somehow became the target of your anger again and again. I became your enemy. My mistakes greatly impacted you, and you totally believed that I would intentionally hurt you. It was almost every two weeks that we fought. Once we would rebuild a bit, then everything would get torn down by one of my genuine mistakes. I would pick my friends over you. Hide things from you. I locked you out of the house accidentally. Not invite you to a friend's birthday party. Leave you at the Nail. I told you a crazy story where I took a boob picture with my friends while on vacation, and that little story that I shared with you on a Saturday morning...became one of our biggest fights. I moved out for a week. I paid you $1000 to find somewhere else to live, but you didn't leave. For the first time in my entire life, I didn't want to go home. I was trapped in a lease when I thought I was protecting myself by having my name on everything. I didn't have a home because the person that's supposed to love me--only had the most terrible things to say to me or about me. I was called a lesbian, a stupid bitch, a cheater. I was publicly embarrassed while I played volleyball on two occasions. This was in June. We had lived together only four months.

I won't even get into the woman that he invited over to our house while I was out of town. I won't mention the women that he's asked for sexy pictures or snaps from. Those are just the ones that I have knowledge of.

I've been called a lot of terrible things...inexcusable things. I missed a flight, and I was accused of cheating. My volleyball games ran long, so I was accused of cheating. He remarked that I was dressing up more for work, wearing perfume and jewelry, therefore I'm trying to impress someone that I work with. When actually I was trying to impress him...because he'd stop calling me beautiful or cute or pretty a long time ago...

He's broken my phone, shattering the screen. He's broken pottery. He's turned over furniture. He's opened all of the doors wide open and left with no one home. He's thrown water on me while I tried to go to sleep. He's threatened to cheat on me, break the lease, move out, break up with me...more times than I can count. It's insanity. I'm finally doing this and getting out.