Well, I just had a huge fight with my mother. I just blew up at her. Before the bomb H was in Iraq for 8 months, and then pretty soon after that we separated. I have lived by myself for so long. Now I live with my mother who has no respect for my privacy, is controlling and expects me to be her best friend. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful that she is letting me stay here...but I feel like I am fifteen years old again living in this damn house.
I am so pissed at H. He gets his own apartment, while I pay $1,000/month on the house in TX. He contributes nothing. He can't...he's got rent to pay. Its not right. I hate him right now. I hate him for messing everything up, for turning my life upside down, and for him being able to do just what he wants. It sucks.
I am really wanting to call him right now but I am afraid I would say something to him that I would regret. So, here I sit, feeling like a child in my mothers house until H gets his head out of his ass...which could be never.
