Shit hit the fan last night at around 12:40am on a work night. You’d think that I would have learnt my lesson from the last time that roommates just don’t work in my home. I’m just not made for cohabitation, especially not with gronks anyway.
Back story: for the past four months or so one of Boy’s friends, let’s call him Gronk, has been living with us. First it started to help him out with a break up, but it’s somehow turned into a seemingly more permanent arrangement...
So last night Boy and Gronk go to the pub for what was meant to be just a couple of drinks, and then turned into late night karaoke. It was organised that they would bring back dinner at 8:30 once I finished my uni class, but I get a text saying they’re going to stay out (even though Boy starts work at 630am and struggles more than me with mornings).
So already I’m hangry from that and decide to go to bed. Strike one.
After a few hours of not being able to sleep, at 12:40am I hear the front door open and hear four voices. What the? The noise then proceeds to our courtyard and I can hear bogan banter, beers and bad singing.
I go downstairs and the straw on my back snaps. Some old dero bogan man and beanie wearing cunt nugget bitch are sitting on the rabbit cage with beers with Boy and our room mate. At 12:40am on a work night. Oh hell no.
“What the fuck is this? Yeah no this is not happening, get the fuck out of my house”.
Cunt nugget bitch pipes up, “uh no, that’s for him (points to Gronk roommate) to decide”. Gronk roommate who is a guest in our house, has the final say in whether it’s cool that our place turns into a late night party haven and public menac to our neighbours.
Now let me point out that it has been explicitly discussed my expectations and needs for our place. I don’t care if you go out, you don’t bring it back to the house. It’s important for home to be a sanctuary for my mental health.
By instead they bring strangers into the home that I have built with Boy for years, and somehow turn me into a stranger in my own fuckng house.
I cracked it at Boy. I told him I’m fucking done with this kind of bullshit and I’m leaving. I told him have fun being single with his fuckface Gronk friend. I’m going to my parents house.
He was drunk, rambled about how yeah he fucked up once and I’m a psycho. I told him it’s not this once, too many times similar to this over months and years and this is the straw that broke the camels back.
He doesn’t have my back. He can’t put himself into my shoes. It’s just about what he wants to do and have fun, and I always have to just suck it up and deal with what he wants, otherwise I’m the bitch.
I left and went to my parents house.
I guess we are broken up now. I’m not talking to him today as I’m still angry and upset. I can’t go back right now to get stuff either as I will probably smash Gronk roommates guitar in his face.
I guess this is the end.