He couldn’t take it, couldn’t fight the wave of darkness that threatened to swallow him whole until he was swimming in its black abyss with no escape. The pressures, the publicity, all of it continued to weigh him down. He was only a man, only able to handle so much until he broke.

            And that breaking point was looming closer with every breath.

            He had to leave, had to go to the one person who understood. Insanity was drawing nearer. He needed her, needed her to hold him, to comfort him, to tell him that she would always be there.

            He ran long fingers through somewhat shaggy dark brown hair in an attempt to keep them from his eyes, but the rebellious strands fell back into their original position. It was hopeless anyway. His hair never stayed the way he wanted it to. But it was unconscious; something his body did when under stress, the soothing motion of sliding through his familiar course strands calming him.

            But it didn’t help now.

            He packed little, making sure he had a few pairs of pants, shirts and boxers to last him. It fit into one suitcase, something for which he was glad. Finding luggage at an airport was one thing he didn’t want to do. He quickly filled a carry-on with whatever he could find that would keep him occupied on the long flight, and drug both the suitcase and carry-on to the living room.

            He grabbed his keys and luggage, clicking off lights as he went out the front door, stopping only to lock it.

            He didn’t look back.