I was free of my commitment, free to do what I wanted. Free to come and go as I pleased. Free to sleep in my own bed, without feeling that I wasn’t doing what somebody else wanted me to do. I lived at home but hadn’t slept in my own bed in months. I had a room in my mother’s house, for my clothes, but I was never there. I had let his needs come before mine for nine years. I had separated myself from my mother, all for his comfort. I was home now.