Breaking up with the mould in my inner west sharehouse

I didn’t want to break things off in this way. I really didn’t.

Image Credit: Harry Gay

Dear Mould,

I didn’t want to break things off in this way. I really didn’t. But every time I try to end things, you keep coming back. No matter how much vinegar I wipe across my walls, how often I use a dehumidifier — you just won’t quit. I’m writing this letter because…well, this is it. 

Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s hard enough as it is. I almost didn’t want to do this — it’s so much easier just ignoring the issue — but my friends (and NSW Health) say that you’re toxic. And honestly, I can see where they’re coming from. You’ve changed me. Sure, you take my breath away — my asthma is never worse than around you — but you demand so much of my time. If I don’t pay attention to you for one day, you spiral out of control, covering my furniture and eating up the paint on my walls. It’s exhausting, and I just can’t do it anymore. I need my space back. 

Don’t get me wrong. There were good times. When we first met, and our mutual friend told me you were the reason my rent was so cheap, I pictured our future together right then and there. I remember the first time I saw you, in the corner of the living room, so shy and unassuming. I could never have imagined things would turn out the way they have. At first I loved how tall you were, but now, I can’t get over the height difference; even standing on a chair, I can’t reach all of you. And I can’t keep buying this much vinegar, Mould — it’s killing me, and I think, deep down, it’s killing you too. I can’t go on like this. It’s not healthy. 

Once my landlord approves the mould removalist, it’s over. I want you out of my house, and you can take all your things with you. You deserve someone who loves you for you, in all your spore-y, sprawling glory. As for me, I need time to work on my studies, on my career, on just… breathing easy again. 

Maybe, one day, we’ll meet again. When I’ve graduated and I’m looking to buy my first place and every house I see is out of my budget. Maybe I’ll find a place that’s surprisingly cheap, go and inspect for myself. The agent won’t name you, but I’ll see you, and I’ll know. I could recognise you from a mile away. 

Until we meet again. 

Love,

Nicola