All that fighting..

6 moths only before we began the fighting..The more I loved him, the harder we fought, the more dependant I became..Seeing me cry always made him temperamental, and boy did I cry..They say tears do good to the eye..Mine must be sqeaky-clean..The reason we fought was always the same..i wanted to spend more time with him, he wanted more freedom..Basically this led to those awful situations in which i began reproaching, he would get mad...He wanted me to be calm, more meditative..In return, I wanted him to be more passionate, to call me in the middle  of the night, be jealous..
I must have been impossible, and were i better writer, the scenes I  would depict could  be quite scary...