I couldn’t believe how far I had fallen. Here I was, a man with all the pull in the world, stuck in my childhood bedroom with my wife, feeling miserable. I knew I had to get out of this rut and get back to my true self. But where do you even start? Brenna and I had resorted to drinking “Strawberitas” and “Limearitas” in secret, trying to find some solace in our mundane lives. We’d sneak them into my mother’s house and drink them in my old bedroom, hoping to find some kind of escape. But even the alcohol couldn’t numb the feeling of being stuck. We spent our nights watching shows like Entourage and East Bound And Down, living vicariously through the characters and their wild, carefree lifestyles. It was our escape from reality, a reality that seemed to get more depressing with each passing day. On this particular night, we lay in bed staring at the projection on the wall, trying to find a shred of happiness in the monotony. I couldn’t help but feel like I was wasting away, that my life had lost all meaning. Brenna looked over at me, sensing the change in my mood. I took her hand and looked into her eyes, telling her that we were going to make it through this. We were going to find our way back to happiness, to the life we had dreamed of. We turned off the projector and went to sleep, and I stared into the darkness, looking for any sort of resolution on the horizon.

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