My fingers wondered restlessly until they found my ring on the left had. I often stopped to look at it. It was a way to remember what it meant.

The snow outside was proof of the cold, but the sun was starting to rise earlier. The winter was coming to an end.

I had lost the whole night looking at the object hung on the wall just across the room. It was very well made but the eyes... they seemed to follow me, to stare deeply into my soul.

I lacked the will to go, to continue and do what needed to be done. It was beyond my power to quit. But, before I did anything else, there was something that I had to do.

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My face couldn't hide how conflicted my mind was. The idea of just staying there on that comfortable armchair near the chimney seemed more tempting every second.

I had enough.

It took a lot of me to just lean my body foward and stand up. I walked, stepping on the red carpet, and silently raised the portrait, taking it out of its place.

The fear of uncertainty made me look once again at it. It was a way of showing myself that there was still time to put it back. I turned around and took a deep breath.

It barely fit when I throwed it on the fire.

That act gave me freedom, but a bitter one. It was time for me to rebuild everything.