The Heart of A Fighter

Just a character study of a professional fighter and the reasons why he fights so hard for himself in the ring.

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7. Shattered

 

Bones were broken, teeth were loose, and I couldn’t feel most of my body anymore. But my body would recover. But my spirit was shattered, perhaps beyond any form of healing.

After how hard I fought for everything, fought to make it here, fought to prove myself, fought for what I wanted, in the end, I still failed – horribly - with nothing but bruises to show for it.

I thought I could prove everyone who had ever put me down or condoned my “talent” wrong by winning this tournament. Perhaps, I had sorely overestimated myself.

Was Rebecca right? Was everyone right? Was I really someone who would never amount to anything?

I never believed what others said about me – never wanted to. But now, as I looked around myself and saw the stadium emptying – nothing left for anyone to see now that the match was over – it was only now that I fully grasped the futility of my situation, and the hopelessness.

I was more alone than ever. Rebecca left me because I was too headstrong to budge from my decision. If I hadn’t insisted on joining this tournament, would she still be at my side? If I hadn’t wanted to win so badly, would I have ended up as I was now?

A lone tear escaped my eye and slipped down the side of my face.

For the first time in my life, I felt regret. All I ever wanted was to know that I wasn’t completely useless, and that I meant something, to some cause, to someone.

And yet, despite how hard I tried, somehow I only ended up achieving the opposite result and making my situation worse. I struggled to comprehend why. Why I could never validate my self-worth, and exactly where I went wrong.

It was a relief when the medics came for me and I finally passed out, silencing the cacophony of doubts in the depths of my mind. For now.

 

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