psychotic flatmate

The emotionally needing flatmate, who is slightly psychotic and maintains her look at me far past the time required when conversation has ended, or indeed when there was no conversation at all to begin with. Unnerving, unnatural in her movements and mannerisms she stalks scarily through the flat. She had been gone for several days and a true sense of easiness to my life seemed to come back to me without any way of trying to attain it. But on coming home tonight, her bags and keys were present at the kitchen bench, greeted by me with heavy barbells on my shoulders and a mouth unable to uphold itself. A sorrow that my short lived ease was soon to go again. I did not see her, as she retired to her bed early, for which I am thankful, but still her mere presence in the bedroom adjacent to mine is enough for an uncomfortable night to be felt in some way, a true relaxation seems not to be found. It is taken from me, the very carpet I walked upon joyfully the night prior, free from restraint. I walked around gleefully in my red and white striped underpants, now the pants are carefully hidden, along with the cellulite around my bottom area, not to breath the fresh morning air, until another trip is to be taken by the offending flat mate. This same carpet is trodden on with heavy feet of sorrow and a sense of injustice, a child that was allowed to blow bubbles in the house is now condemned to blow bubbles only outside. It feels unfair that the rules should suddenly change – especially when they were so beneficial to me.