The thing is I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be in a relationship where my partner is sometimes there and sometimes not.

Right now he’s in bed while I’m in the kitchen, giving him space. And our hallway is a mess of books and DVDs.

All this because things don’t fit well in the shelves we’ve got. And this makes him feel bad because we can’t get the shelves he wants because they cost money we don’t have. And anyway, you have to bolt those to the walls and we rent so we can’t do that. And that means he feels bad because we don’t have a house.


I feel bad about that too. But I am so tired of making all of our financial plans. The little savings we have are there because I did the saving. The bookshelves are there because I bought them and put them together. We're living in this rental house because I hunted for it for months, dragging a toddler around on public transport, ringing agents, filling out forms, organising removalists, cleaning, packing.

I don’t want to be the only one looking ahead to the future, laying down plans, organising money, putting homes together.

I know it’s hard for him. I know he doesn’t want to be this way. But right now, in the eye of another storm over small and big things, I just don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be here.

I’m deliberately not editing this post. I am not going to read over it and tone it down. This is what it’s like when we’re in the midst of this thing.

Flo