Wow, I think I need to vent.

I don’t know if I’m being unreasonable.  I don’t feel like I am.  I don’t know why things always have to change… why can’t they just be the same instead?

Brock and I have been getting ready together in the mornings every day for… I don’t even know how long.  At least since I started working here at the clinic.  Whether or not we go to the gym, we get up together, take a shower together, and get ready together.  Since he’s a guy, he always finishes in the bathroom first, gets dressed, and then starts doing all of the other things that he can to help us get out the door on time.  He would feed the dog, get lunches packed up, perhaps put up some breakfast dishes if they were still out.  When I would finish getting ready, I would grab my things, and we’d go.  I used to brag all the time about how sweet and wonderful Brock was.

That was how it used to be.

Now, Brock likes to get out of the shower, and go sit in bed and play a game on his iPhone.  That’s it.  Not even dressed yet.

We get out of the house late almost every day.  I’m always scrambling to get my shit, and inevitably forget things I really want or need.  I feel like he’s always rushing me, because we’re behind.  Should I be getting up earlier?  Damnit, should I just not care?  I can do that.  I can not care.  He can do whatever he wants, and I can turn the caring off… but what are we then?  Two people living together, who don’t care?  What is all that?

I’m sure he’s going to read this, and be pissed off at me, but he already told me how I’m being hypocritical because I sleep all the time.  He already made me feel like I’m being an idiot.  Evidently I don’t want him to have fun.  Evidently I’ve been ‘spoiled’ by him, and now he has to break me from it.  Evidently there is something else he’d rather be doing.  Maybe I’m just being a bitch because I’ve been through all of this shit before.  I’ve heard the, “I need time to myself,” and “It’s just a game.”  I don’t want to have some stupid defense mechanism… I just don’t get why.  Why do you have to play it every free moment?  Why do I have to ask you to put it down to kiss me?  Why should I EVER have to feel bitter or jealous towards an inanimate object because you pay more attention to that than me?  I swore I would never, ever feel like that again, and I do.  Writing this makes me cry.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.