The only sound is my gloved fist connecting with the punching bag.
Right jab.
Right jab.
I hop back and forth from toe to toe.
Left jab.
Left jab.
Right uppercut.
Left uppercut.
Right-hook.
I repeat this exercise a few times, hoping that the conclusion to my workout will keep me distracted, but it doesn’t.
All I keep hearing is Hadlee’s voice in my mind. Her words replay over and over again like a song on repeat.
I want to break up.
I want to break up.
I want to break up.
I’ve tried to numb the pain with some good ol Jameson. I’ve tried to talk to other women to keep my mind off of things.
None of it works.
It’s so hard because I miss her like crazy. I know it’s only been a few weeks and I know no one can get over something like this overnight. I know it takes months, sometimes years to peace a broken heart back together, but this is the first time I’ve ever had one so in a way I’m new to it all.
I’ve even gone into crazy mode and sat in the back parking lot where she works, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Sometimes I do. And when I see her, she seems fine. Like this whole break up thing isn’t bothering her at all.
A few times I’ve seen her she’s been smiling.
Laughing even.
She looks so happy.
That’s what kills me more than anything because I am anything but happy. I am a fucking mess. I’ve started avoiding people. That’s one of the reasons why I spoke to Joe about switching my training schedule, so I could come to the gym at night. I don’t want the ‘what’s going on with you’s’ or the ‘is everything okay?’ It’s much easier for me to go on pretending that nothing happened.
I think what’s killing me more than anything is the self-blame. I keep asking myself what I could have done differently. I wish she would have told me. I wish I had a chance to do everything over. That’s the shitty thing about life. You rarely get do-over’s. I mean how many people can say they get a second chance at anything. I can’t think of anybody.
Stepping back from the punching bag, I place my left hand on top of it. I glance at myself in the mirror, and snarl. Anger builds inside of me like a volcano ready to erupt. I’m trying my best to hold it back, but a huge part of me wants remove my gloves and chuck them at the fucking mirror.
Instead, I take a note from Hadlee’s book and take deep breaths.
Control your temper.
God damn it! I just want her out of my head for five minutes.
My thoughts shift when I hear footsteps. I immediately drop into my fighting stance, ready to knock someone the fuck out. I relax when I see Murph waddling toward me. He’s pulling up his pants. “Damn it, Murph. Man you ever heard of a belt.”
He laughs then rubs his big, beautiful bald head. “You know I hate those fucking things.”
I tilt my head up at him. “Whatever man. You scared the shit out of me.” I walk toward him. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I inquire. I know Joe always locks the door when he leaves.