Somehow, us complaining about what a princessy bitch our housemate can be turned into her trying to sincerely tell me that:

• She's working on being quiet, not yelling, and "not being a mouthy mom"

• She would die or kill for me if she had to, and she means it even if I may not believe it

• She believes she thinks differently from because of the way her childhood was and that she's realized she just reacts instead of thinking things through (Literally the most accurate and self-aware thing I have ever heard her say, to which my response was "everyone has baggage--sometimes it's a purse, sometimes it's a suitcase")

• She has apparently been making an effort to consider her words with everyone she talks to, not just me, because she doesn't want to make anyone else feel like that

• She doesn't want to dump her baggage on me (in response to the analogy I made)

It hurts. It makes me question again. I hate it when she does this. The vindictive part of me that's in possession of a small spine says "She needs to learn that her actions have consequences and she can't treat somebody like that and expect them to still want to be a happy family or some shit. She made her bed, she can lie in it."

The part of me that has empathy wants to cry at the thought of how devastated she'll be the day she comes home from work to find no trace of me because I've made damn sure to vanish and take everything I own to my hypothetical apartment while she was gone.

I just...I know I need to do what's right for me and that her emotions are not my responsibility anymore, and that this is a consequence of her actions and not necessarily me being a cruel bitch, but...whenever she tries to show me that she's working to change and wants a relationship I still feel like a cruel bitch. Like she's clearly trying so hard and I've already written her off and given up on her like a terrible person.

And then there's that small part of me like "Ha! She's grovelling for your love and attention now. Let her see how it fucking feels." But I feel like that's twisted and horrible of me.

I know I am allowed to feel the way I do about her, I know I am allowed to have a line in the sand. I know that I can say "I am done with being treated this way and I will no longer tolerate it." I know I am allowed to move away from her and never talk to her again if that's what I want to do.

But her doing this...I can't explain it. On one hand it's not like I'm changing my mind. I still have that steel feeling of "I am never going back," but...I guess her doing this just makes me feel bad. It's like "I don't fucking care, she can't treat me like that, I'm fucking done" is temporarily having water thrown on it by "me leaving will hurt her so badly, she'll be devastated and I'll feel so guilty like it's my fault (even though realistically it won't be because I'm not responsible for her emotions anymore and never will be again)", if that makes sense.

It just sucks so much because every time she has this self-awareness I'm just like...Why? Why now? Why after the biggest fight we've ever had? Why now, after I've already given up on her? Why now, when she had my whole fucking life to treat me like she cared and chose not to? I'd been holding on for the last three fucking years that we'd be able to fix things, and admittedly I felt pressured into it by Aunt, but whatever I tried to take tiny steps anyways despite my terror--and then she snapped again and showed her true colors after three years of no yelling. And suddenly NOW she cares. NOW she wants to fix things. NOW she wants to fucking try, and it just feels like too little too late.

This woman taught me to hate myself and see myself as a worthless "waste of skin" (words she said to me on two separate occasions) that doesn't deserve anyone's love, time, resources, caring, or anything. She treated me like she hated me for my entire fucking life as far as I remember. And now she finally sees the error of her ways and wants to shape her shit up. That incident was my final fucking straw, and now she wants to somehow un-break the camel's back. And it's just like...??? Seriously? No, you had your fucking chance and you wasted it. I held on three years and then you snapped again and threw any chance of repairing shit out the fucking window.

It angers me that she finally sees even though it already feels too late, and saddens me that she sees after I've already given up. It's almost simultaneous guilt and anger, I guess? I don't know.

TL;DR Her being self-aware like this somehow simultaneously pisses me off and rips my heart out and I just don't know what to do about it.