So, it's been three months. Long enough to start and end a relationship.

Zach and I got serious very soon after we went out. I was crazy about him. He was everything I had been waiting three years to find.

I met his family and his friends. I wasn't crazy about them and their poor financial history (including his mom who opened credit cards in his name once he turned 18 and ruining his credit, his step dad who recently declared bankruptcy, and his girl friend from home who was a bitch). But I loved him anyway.

I wasn't crazy about his beard or his beer gut. But I loved him anyway.

I wasn't crazy about the fact that sex lasted literally about 30 seconds. But I loved him anyway.

He wasn't crazy about my long work hours or my long school hours or the time I had to spend studying or doing homework. He wasn't crazy about the way I always wanted to be in control or the fact that I couldn't just lie there without a million things running across my mind.

And he chose to fight with me about it.

Our fights weren't too bad. They were usually resolved within a day or two. And each time we had a fight, we got better at our next fight - they became discussions instead of screaming matches. But I was going into work crying at least once a week because he was mean when he fought, even without being provoked by me. I grew more and more frustrated, because it seemed that he wanted to pick at everything I did.

Nothing I ever did was right or good enough. I could write pages worth of the things I did that I thought would show him that I loved him - he didn't seem to notice or care. He would still fight with me about how he wasn't receiving enough attention.

Finally, I had it.

I was cleaning the house, telling him I didn't feel up to going to a movie, because I had a headache. He said I was lying. After finishing some cleaning, I decided to lay down and he lay next to me. I reached over for the remote so I could turn on the TV and listen to the game. He stayed there a minute and then went downstairs to read. I figured he couldn't read with the game on.

I didn't think anything of it until the next morning when he wouldn't speak to me after I addressed him several times.

When I got to work, I sent him an email: "You haven't said much too me lately. I'm worried something is wrong."
He responded going on some rant about how he couldn't believe that I would turn the TV on when he was trying to get close to me.

I couldn't believe it.  I wasn't even going to fight with him on this one. I said: "I think I'm done with this."

And it was over until the next day when he emailed me and told me that he missed me and asked me about all of the things that had been going on with me in the course of one day. By the end of the week, he was begging. He was going to prove to me that he could make this work, but I was no longer interested.

I was exhausted. I never put so much effort into making a relationship work. I haven't cared this much about someone in the past three years. I haven't even been this nice to anyone I dated in the past three years. And for him to discount that by constantly pointing out the things I wasn't doing, wore me down to the point where I was starting to feel badly about myself. I was starting to feel guilty about the things I was doing - work and school primarily. The things that have been my life since I moved down here. The things (beside family) that mean the most to me and have been my life since I moved here.

So, here I am again single world! This time, I hope I'm here to stay ...