Decorating is Stressful
We moved into a house together and things were a little on the rocks, but I figured I could work a little harder and she would too. I had my doubts as she was a control freak and really only took what I said about things at face value—really saw that later on after we split. We had a huge fight about the living room paint color.
She said it was just awful and couldn’t put up with it. We went round and round about it for a week or so until I finally just decided I could concede on this one, but that I got to choose the bedroom color. She described it as a cream color, but like adding too much creamer to coffee. “Disgusted” was her word for it I want to say.
Anywho, I’m standing in the paint aisle on my day off and utterly exhausted from a week of work and remodeling. I’m dead ass tired and she’s combing through the paint swatches. She finds the color and we get it mixed. We end up in an argument in the car as I’m opting for bed and she wants to paint. I told her it is better to do it during the day so we can open the windows and let it air out better.
It was currently raining and I didn’t want watermarks. It escalated and grew until she finally just got so pissed that she left. I decided to be nice and start painting the opposing window wall to at least show her I heard her thoughts. I got it all mixed up and dipped the roller. Rolled over once and it all hit me at the exact same time—I was sick of her and her controlling attitude. I was done feeling like an ass for things I didn’t do wrong. I was tired of living her dream life. You know why it hit me? That paint was the exact same damn color as the wall.
Story credit: Reddit / imgursucksnow