Alexander
In this point of time, I am aware that I am not in the position to hold my pride and keep everything to myself. To get to her, I know that I shouldn’t pretend that everything’s about to be solved by my frustrations and venting out my anger on everyone and everything around me.
“You can go and see her next time.” Mom said, almost like a whisper while I feel her shaky hands hold on to my right arm to support me as we stand in front of her room’s closed door. “I don’t want you to…feel hurt.” When she said that, I felt my heart sink in the understanding of her pained tone.
Ignoring her warning, I used my left arm to hold the cold, metallic, knob. Even if there is no one forcing me to hold on it, I can feel the pressure that makes it difficult for me to move and twist the knob to s
