The husband said: "You clinked at the cleaning, check your head!" And left

Unexpectedly, a new response came to one of the letters we published. More precisely, not even the response, but the cry of the soul.

However, let's start from the beginning. After the publication of the letter codenamed “This is the bottom: I visit my plate and carry a melamine sponge in my purse”, the website fell down. As usually happens in such cases, the audience is divided into those who support the reader and those who argue with her and even puts the girl a medical diagnosis. However, we could not disregard this letter. The reader, who introduced herself as Julia, said that she sobbed over the story of Natalia, and although the story was written with humor, Yulia does not see anything funny in it. And that's why…

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“I read and saw myself ...” writes Yulia. - In every word. In each letter. With only one difference: Natalya can still laugh at situations that she finds herself in because of a pathological craving for purity, but I have come to terms with it for a long time. Although it all started pretty standard.Since childhood, my mother and grandmother taught me to clean up after themselves. Good clean up. Carefully. Do not forget to wash the baseboards, wipe the windows, polish all shiny and polish all smooth surfaces. For as long as I can remember, I was forbidden to throw toys away, and it was out of the question to get on the sofa with a plate and chew on something while watching TV! This is the crumbs! This is dirt! Do I have to say that I grew up a terrible clean! From the side, it was probably not noticeable - well, just a well-decorated apartment in which the girl lives. Only I knew that after each departure of guests and after any celebration I started not just cleaning, but some kind of total disinfection. I washed the dishes, the floor, the walls ... I cleaned the carpets and filled them with stain removers. I rubbed each leaf on a room flower (after the guests, for some reason, a lot of dust accumulated on them) and vacuuming sofas ... We should also say about the toilet. While there were guests in my apartment, I could go into the bathroom several times, lock the door and wash the floor there. I could see every drop and every bad flush in the toilet. I bought cleaning products in tons, and then did not know what and how to put my own hands in order.Vigorous powders and gels ruthlessly corroded them. I could not clean the apartment with gloves: I wanted to feel any dirt, dried food, crumbs ...

Three years ago I got married. I met my husband at work, met for several months. Then he came to visit and, of course, was amazed at how clean I was. And at the same time and praised. After a couple of dates, Yevgeny said that he did not want to return to his bachelor apartment, because it was uncomfortable and dirty there. I understood him and that is why, in order not to see how dirty it was there, I had never been in his home. We quickly gathered and began to live together. My husband worked a lot, and when I came home, a nightmare began for me. He could easily walk in dirty shoes into the kitchen (after which there were terrible traces on the floor), scatter things (I once found socks behind the refrigerator), do not lower the toilet lid, spit out the sink, spill coffee and not wipe it behind me. But the main thing - he loved the seeds! It seems that he clicked them all the time: when he watched the news in the hall and when he smoked on the balcony; when I went to bed and when I took a shower. And one day he even said that in his house his parents also clicked seeds, and, without bothering,spat the husk right on the floor. The phrase “It’s possible to sweep it up later!” Literally drove me to a faint.

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I tried to talk and ask, convince and swear. At first my husband laughed and gently called me a scourer, and then he began to go wild. We did not speak for weeks, which, however, did not prevent him from continuing to organize dumping houses. The last straw was the day when I ran off to work in the morning, asking my husband to pull it out of the washing machine and hang clean things on the balcony. I returned late. Going home, I saw that my husband was playing at the computer. When asked what he did all day, Zhenya replied that he was playing and resting. But to the second question: “Did you hang out your laundry?” He cheerfully slapped his forehead and sang: “Oh, forgot, forgot, forgot.” And this is - not looking up from their favorite tanchiki. I rushed to the washing machine and began to pull things out. Their smell was unpleasant. The linen was cramped and burned. It was necessary to start washing again. And when I went into the kitchen and saw that Zhenya did not throw out the garbage either, and the dirty dishes already literally fall out of the sink, I became hysterical. I don’t remember that I screamed, but I will never forget the eyes of my husband.He slowly got up from the computer, quietly turned it off and said:

“You just went nuts on your cleanup !!!! You are not a man, but a robot vacuum cleaner! Check your head! ”
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Then Zhenya got dressed and left. Of course, a few days later we met again. I was hoping to talk, but Zhenya said that he came back only for things. It turns out that he rented an apartment again and absolutely does not want to live with me anymore. The motive is still my love of purity. Now we are officially divorced. I live alone. And my house is still clean. I do not consider myself a robot vacuum cleaner, let alone some kind of abnormal, but also the thought that a man will appear in my apartment again, who wipes his hands on the curtains or spit the sunflower seeds, shudders. That I do not want and will not allow. My apartment is my world, and I will do everything to keep this world clean. And to jokes and phrases like “What? Cleanliness - the guarantee of health? "Or" Not three so much - the hole will be "I have long been accustomed. At home now nobody tells them, and at work I miss everything by the ears.

And now - the main thing. I dream to find people close in spirit and to be friends with them. Perhaps just by correspondence, virtually.We would exchange tips, support each other. Therefore, I ask you to give me the address of Natalia for correspondence. I will be very grateful.