"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all" - Hamlet, III, i.

What you see, isn't who I am. You will not see who I am, because I don't like bothering people with my problems.

Just give me a soundproofed room with a punching bag and a box of tissue.


What do you do, when the person you want to go to when you cry, is the one who made you cry in the first place?