Nicole
I went home filled with anger. But it wasn't the kind of anger that explodes, that shouts, that swears. It was the worst kind. The kind that silences. That suffocates. That keeps you from sleeping, eating, or thinking straight. I wasn't just angry at Urso, nor just at the situation. I was angry because there were two completely different points of view, two realities clashing head-on, and I was stuck in the middle, unable to choose as I wanted, unable to change anything. I felt stuck, trapped between what was right and what was possible.
I got home exhausted, tired of thinking. I took a long shower, trying to wash away the weight I felt on my shoulders, but it didn't help. I sat on the edge of the bed with the towel still on, staring into space. Thinking. Weighing everything. I
