And so comes the hard part. The truth.
Looking back I think that I could have prevented this. That I could have controlled the way I perceived my situation. But old habits die hard.
There's no more point in crying. Or worrying or blaming other people for my demise. I have accepted it. But I am not really ready yet to tell people what happened. I hate it that they might ask questions that can be answered even without an explanation; that I failed.
So let me have time alone and rethink. What now?
Fight Monique. Carry on and fight.
