… of impending doom.
I’ve only been home for half an hour, but he’s home too. And actually, it doesn’t feel like my home any more. I can’t do anything, or go anywhere, without being quizzed; I can’t invite friends round, because he just sits in to monitor the conversation.
This isn’t living (and y’know, I believe that one thing I do do, when I can, is to seize whatever opportunities come my way, and make sure I’m truly living my life.) It’s barely miserably existing until I can snatch some precious time without him somehow.
But this is how he wants things to be. He seems satisfied, content.
I thought I’d ended this all two months ago. Now I can’t see an end in sight.