 | | 2016-07-04 17:53
From blog Finding Femme
Cliffy's with Mustard and Plum
My housemate is one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. Last year after going through a tough break up, I was in a house full of memories, surrounded by someone else’s stuff, going slowly insane while living on a diet of cheese and biscuits and gin. I hated being in the house and was in it most often on my own. My ex-partner’s things were left in this semblance of normality that made me feel as though I needed to tear down the walls to breathe. It was like a disaster had hit and all the happy people in the house had walked out with only what they were wearing on. It made me feel like I was still living the life I had made the very difficult choice to...
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