All the weeding, walking, and painting had paid off, and I was leaner and happier than I had been for a while. But there was an itch deep down that I couldn’t scratch with long walks in the countryside, or fresh air, or time with my little brother. It festered deep within my intestines, like a tapeworm, nibbling at my insides. I wanted to scratch it so bad, and I had hoped with all my heart that this change of location would have dealt with this pesky sense of unease. But the feeling persisted, despite my attempts to ignore it.
