I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind me. Everything was the same as before we left, the colors and the bed, the pillows and the paintings- everything was exactly the same yet I was supposed to somehow move on from all the shit that had happened to me. God, I was fuming!

Was I whining? I couldn't tell anymore if my thoughts and my anger were valid or if I should be more okay with the way things were because of the reasons why they happened.

No, stop ...