They say moving in with someone changes everything in a relationship; I thought they were wrong. Prior to me moving in with my boyfriend at the time; I was spending the night at his place at least three to four times a week, what would be different once I was there full time? I knew this guy like the back of my hand; we were together for almost three years before we decided to cohabitate. What could possibly go wrong?
I moved in with high hopes of a happily ever after… that died about three weeks later. I immediately realized that this was one of the biggest mistakes that I had ever made. Everything was under a microscope now. I didn’t have the same outlook that I once did when I was just a guest there. When I was a guest a couple times a week, I failed to see the mess that this person lived in. I thought he wanted to spend more time with me than spending time cleaning his apartment when I was around. Now that we were roommates I figured out that he was just lazy.
I lived with my girlfriends prior to him and to be honest; I wasn’t the tidiest person. When it came to cleaning, I would do the bare minimum. You know, just enough to give the impression that the place was clean. For some reason something changed when I moved in with my boyfriend, all of a sudden I turned into a neat freak. I took pride in having a clean home, a spick and span place when we would entertain. At first I didn’t mind cleaning up after him, it was the only way things would get done. After a while I started to wonder if the only reason I was there was to be his maid.
I started to notice how quickly things around the apartment would get dirty with two people using it; i.e. the toilet. I didn’t have to share a bathroom when I lived with my girlfriends, so I was used to cleaning the toilet every couple weeks. Now it seemed like I was cleaning the toilet every couple of days. It didn’t help matters that he didn’t bother to put down the seat after he would use it. But one thing it did was expose all of the nasty, smelly, disgusting urine that was left behind when he walked out. I didn’t understand why he would not wipe up the splashes that he created. Didn’t his mom teach him to do that?
I would ask nicely at first to clean up his mess after he peed and to put the seat down, too. I didn’t think that was too much to ask since this was the home that we shared together. He took it as me bitching and told me the classic line, “Don’t sweat the small stuff.” He deflected the issue and turned it around on me like he did everything else in our relationship. I let it go for a little while, I figured that since I had brought this issue to his attention that maybe he would be more conscious. I guess I was giving him more credit than he deserved, because nothing ever changed, EVER! He didn’t even put one tiny little bit of effort into cleaning up his piss!
After a couple of months of cleaning up after my pig of a boyfriend, I pretty much had enough. I was sick of being the one that cleaned the apartment while he watched his stupid sports on the weekends. I used cleaning the apartment as an escape from watching ESPN and SportsCenter all day long on Saturday and Sunday. He always would tell me after the game he would pitch in and help me, but that of course never happened. I pretty much accepted that this was my life and this was how it was going to be, as I bitched under my breath.
Then one day I was at my breaking point with him and this issue. I had just gotten done with cleaning the urine stained toilet. I walked out of the bathroom to go get some other cleaning supplies to start on the shower and he came in and went to the bathroom as I walked out. I walked back in right after he was done and I looked down at the toilet I just got done scrubbing and I saw drips on the edge of the toilet bowl. I screamed at the top of my lungs so loud you would have thought someone had told me my mom had just died. I marched right out to the living room and yelled at him for pissing all over the toilet that I had just finished cleaning less than five minutes ago! Not only did he piss all over the toilet, he pissed all over the work I had just done. He called me a cunt and I grabbed the glass of water on the coffee table and threw it at his face. I felt he deserved it after calling me the ultimate bad word in the dictionary. It felt so good to see the look of shock when I did it, too.
My actions started a much bigger fight and we were calling each other everything in the book. Our relationship didn’t last much longer after this incident. I learned from living with this person how important it is to share the same standards of housework. I think you can avoid petty fights in a relationship if you are on the same page on the little things too. Also, next time I will pay for a maid!