I made the fish and we ate, but I just left the dishes. The kitchen's a mess. I just don't care about it.

I'm unhappy with my life. I'm unhappy being here with this man. I thought I could hang on for what is left of his life. But that could be for I don't know how long. I keep falling into this same pit of resentment - resentment toward him. It was never a great relationship. I feel cheated.

I can't keep staying here feeling like this. Maybe I'll be worse miserable back in my own apartment on my own. But I have to change something.

Nothing he and I ever did together ever turned out how I hoped - nothing . . . ever. From the first year I knew him, he always had some huge need I was trying to meet. I've been drained. He doesn't mind just consuming me.

But it's hard to leave. He just doesn't do very well without me. But there is so little in it for me. I can't keep on this way. It may already be too late for me to even save myself from falling apart.