I believe that the most important thing in a relationship is respect. Love can slowly fade, passion can wane, but people will still be together.
But if respect disappears, it's over. I never thought that my marriage with Arek would end in such a scenario.
For five years we lived, if not heart to heart, then at least not bad. We both worked and shared the household chores equally. I cleaned the drains, my husband vacuumed. I clean the stove, and Arek is not ashamed to take out the trash or change the bedding.
Recently I noticed that my husband had started to dump everything for me. Literally. For example, I took the dry laundry out of the dryer and put it in neat piles. Five minutes passed, and Arek was there. He was standing there, rearranging the clothes. I put the food in the fridge and went out to do my own thing. I come back, and my husband has put everything back together. After dinner, I wipe the table and put the dishcloth on the sink. I turn around, and Arek is wiping the table again, carefully wiping away the drips. And so it is with everything, absolutely everything!
When I come out of the bathroom after a shower, he jumps off the couch and defiantly closes the door behind me. I take off my shoes and put them on the shelf. Five minutes later my husband comes over and moves my shoes to another place.
At first, I didn't attach any importance to Arek's actions. Maybe I really did miss a stain on the table or a pile of laundry might have fallen. But no, it's nothing like that – I started to wonder. I'm not five years old, I know how to run a house. Of course, it's not perfect, but there's nothing to complain about. But even if something is wrong, you can and should say so. I will take into account my partner's wishes, improve myself and stop doing things he doesn't like.
But Arek was silent – and that was the worst! I started arguing with him. My husband's eyes widened: “I didn't mean anything bad. I just wanted to move my shoes (wipe the table, put the food away, etc.). The words were different, but the motive was always the same. Of course, he didn't say it to my face. Remembering that men don't understand hints, I asked him directly what he didn't like about my actions. Tell me – I explained – what I was doing wrong. He shrugged and calmed me down. “You're doing everything right, I have no complaints.” “So why are you doing it?” I asked Arek. And he played dumb again and said he didn't understand what I was talking about.
It got to the point where I was afraid of my husband coming home from work. My eyes twitched at the thought that this silent pantomime would start again. I was doing something around the house, Arek was rearranging the furniture. It was as if I was armless or mentally retarded. He could at least say something, complain! No, silence. The last straw was a paper crane, an origami craft that my friend gave me. Origami is my hobby. I like making simple figurines in my free time.
The crane I brought back from Japan, by the way, turned out to be a bit crooked. It's not easy to work with your hands when you're in a morally unstable state. Nevertheless, I liked the crane and put it in the closet with the rest of my work and went out on business. I came back and couldn't believe my eyes. My crane had clearly been changed by someone else! I asked my husband: did you have a hand in this? He didn't deny it. He said he wanted to help. That's when I broke down. How I screamed!
I told him everything! I told him he'd drive me to the mental hospital with his alterations and that I couldn't stand it any longer. I packed my things and went to my friend's house. She laughed at me, said it was stupid to get mad over such nonsense. My husband also tells everyone what a psychopath I am for leaving him, such a great helper, over a paper crane. Even my mother took his side and scolded me. “You fool,” she said, “you fool, you leave such a man.” Your father has never lifted a finger in his life, he doesn't know which side of the stove to approach. I would be happy to have a man like that, but you're acting like a teenager,” my mother scolded me.
You know, at first I doubted myself a little. And then I remembered the whole story and sent all the advisors… to my almost-ex! Go and live with a man who, according to psychologists, shows hidden aggression and deliberately drives me crazy. I'll look at you and laugh, and in the meantime I'll file for divorce, because my nerves are more valuable than the pants in the house!
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