I try hard to focus, but it still remains difficult to make it through a whole night of work. It never fails that around dinner time, when I'd normally go home and talk to my wife and have lunch, I know I'm going home to that damned empty house to let my dog outside, and pace the floor. The chest pain starts, tightness of breath, I damn near hyperventilate. She has utterly destroyed me. I would have to be some kind of monster to deserve the torture she's put me through but I am not a monster. I'm a good person who has gotten shit on.
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