M and I are in our new home. We have a living room and a dining room, and our bedrooms are mostly together. And I at least have pans I can cook in now. I spent most of the morning washing dishes . . .
M and I just had a big fight. It's forgotten now, I think, probably until tomorrow night when we have the same fight again. I know it's only been two days, but I'm starting to doubt how good a decision I made. M told me we should never have left, and that I only moved for selfish reason. He said he hates the apartment. He said he doesn't hate me, but he doesn't love me.
I don't know how to explain the reasons we moved. I can't tell him, we moved because your grandma did something really bad, and she's treated me like dirt for the last ten years. I don't want to badmouth his grandma. I just don't know how to explain without sounding selfish. In a way I think I was very selfish in wanting this place and wanting to be on my own.
He keeps saying the only things I can do to make him feel better are to move back to his old house, or find another house just like it. I just don't know how to respond. I went a cried in my room, and he came in to tell me he was sorry he'd yelled at me. He told me the apartment wasn't so bad after all, and then five minutes later was going on about how he hated it. I don't know how to handle this. I thought I was doing so well. I thought I was doing the right things, but now I don't know.
The worst part of it is, I don't think any of the rest of my family thinks I did the right thing. My mother was here today to help move some things that were forgotten yesterday. She made so many comments today. She'd refrained yesterday, but today . . . she went on and on about how much she'd spent for groceries for me. About the shabbiness of my apartment. About how I wanted to arrange things. About this and that. I just felt so worn down. I didn't sleep much last night, and I was so tired today. I made a comment about how much M had eaten today, and she said, "Well now you know what it's like to live with him during the day. You'd think I run a restaurant." I was just commenting. I wasn't really upset. It had been one of M's, not able to get full days.
And then M tells me he hates this place, hates me for making us move, and I that I was selfish. M told me he would kill himself if we didn't move back to where we belonged.
I think maybe I am. Maybe I did just do this for myself.