In hindsight I totally rushed into this decision but I felt it was right at the time.
Saturday morning was spent skulking about in my room and cleaning the bathroom (I hope to his high standards) until he left the house.
I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure I've not left anything out of place; I even plump up the cushions on the sofa so it looks like I've not been in there.
It's ridiculous, isn't it?
So I've made plans to stay with a friend until I can find something more permanent, which I hope is ASAP. I want to be in my new 'home' by Christmas. It's time to start my new life.
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