And it was the most surreal experience. We were together for three years and a bit. I both started and ended it. We broke up two years ago, and I haven't talked to him or seen him since. A mutual friend shared his blog post on Facebook, so I got curious. I know, bad Dona, but I went ahead and started reading it. It was . . . Strange. So strange. And the further I read, the weirder it got. Since we broke up, he has a) lived in his parents house b) been single, hasn't even asked anyone out c) blamed me for everything and d) rewritten the entire history of our relationship, down to the last detail. He had an entire post about how it disgusted him that I slathered everything in ketchup before I ate it, wrote in detail about watching me eat scrambled eggs covered in the stuff and how it made him quite eating, but he never said anything because he is soooo nice. But that is not how I eat eggs. Not how I eat ANYTHING. I put a small pile of ketchup on my plate, and dip small bites in. And I almost never eat eggs with ketchup in the first place so. . ? What? What??? He complained about how I never wanted him anywhere near the farm, speculated I was having an affair (with whom, exactly, he does not specify) because of it. I actually told my parents about this one because it was a well established FACT that I always, ALWAYS told him when I was doing a project he could tag along on, or even help out with. He did this exactly three times, and each time complained non stop and went home before me. But now he is saying that my reluctance to have him on the farm prevented him from living his dream of working with the soil, and the sole reason he is still stuck in a crappy job he hates. He also blames me for the overwhelming lack of sex in the relationship even though I would sleep naked and often got handsy. Nevermind he would flop over onto his stomach and pretend to be asleep, 'it is the woman's job to be in charge of that sort of thing'. Oh, and I 'constantly rejected him'. I seriously do not remember a single case of me rejecting him. He initiated so rarely that it was like Christmas and I always made a huge deal about how great it was. There is more. So, so much more. But I mean, were we even in the same relationship? How do we remember things so very differently?