Feeling a strain along my arm as I bring the last box into the house.

“Man, I need to start lifting weights,” I muttered silently.

I stretch my arms over my head, attempting to release the tension as I gaze around, admiring my new living room.

Ahh, my own place. Yes, it’s a fixer-upper, but I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach, the possibilities I imagine as they run through my mind.

...

Insanity is the erratic and murky realm my mind is becoming familiar with. I complete the same mundane soul-sucking routines each day and expect a different result. I never leave; I wait, and still, he does not come.

I finish washing my tea-stained cup in my small, mouldy kitchen, slowly turning to view my stale surroundings—the withered furniture in a forever shrinking space. Everything has dra...