My Friend and I Are Both 60 Years Old. We’ve Chosen to Move in Together and Rent Out the Other Flat.

So, we talked it all through, every little detail, and decided, why not move in together? Honestly, we saw loads of positives in the whole idea.

Were both on our own. At sixty, its not exactly easy to meet a decent man, and if, by chance, you do, you can always sort out the flat situation later. Our kids and grandkids are scattered all over the country. The family? Theyll just be pleased their mums arent sat home bored out of their wits. Ages ago, when we were young mums, we rented a flat together for a bit, even with my little one in tow. Despite our thorny personalities, we managed, somehow. We never got boredcleaning, cooking, planning trips to the theatre or a museum, just so we didnt become hermits in the house.

Then theres the financial security. Wed split the bills, plus the income from letting out one of the flats. Wed actually be better off! And the peace of mind, knowing if one of us fell ill or needed a hand, the other would always be there.

Honestly, we only saw the upsides to living together.

But lets get real for a second.

The very first argument: where to live? Each of us clung rather stubbornly to her own territory, both of us reeling off our excellent reasons. I was willing to move out of my flat, but I dug my heels in a bit, just so she didnt think Id concede every time.

Next, we hit a snag over mountains of belongings. Once I said fine, lets stay at her place and began lugging my things over, she started to get edgy about how much I had. There just wasnt space for everything, and the idea of leaving stuff behind, especially with new tenants moving in, made me nervousI mean, you never know who youll get.

So we wound up renting a garage and stashing loads of odds and ends there. We soon found tenants for the other flat. And heres where the fun really started. Right off, I felt like my friend was treading on my toes. Honestly, I felt like a guest rather than an equal, but I slowly let it slide.

As things went on, it was clear: living together just wasnt balanced. She had a particular way she wanted cleaning supplies kept, totally different from mine. I found myself keeping quiet and going along, since, in her house, she was the boss.

Turns out, our food preferences were miles apart too. I bit my tongue and just ate what she cooked, figuring it wasnt worth the fuss. In time, my own likes faded into the background. Another little thingIm a light sleeper, and she liked falling asleep with the TV on! The constant noise drove me up the wall. Earplugs didnt even help much.

Slowly, all those drawbacks started chipping away at the charm of it all. We tried hard to put up with each other, tried to compromise. But then things came to a head. I realised she was getting irritated just by having me around. I did everything she wanted, or so I thought, yet something about me was obviously tipping her over the edge.

Then she stopped speaking to me. Days slid into weeks, and I kept going round in circles, wondering what Id done wrong. Eventually, I couldnt take it anymoreI just burst into tears right in front of her. She did too, and she admitted she didnt even know why she was so agitated all the time. Thats when I realised: some people just need their own home and their own ways. Better to see each other often than try to share the same space all the time.

We cancelled the tenancy agreementand, just like that, our friendship was back to its old, lovely self.