"You can't just take her away from me Veronica. She's my Flower to. We helped her grow, and I want to be there for when she's a mature beautiful rose with thorns, because if she's anything like you, that's exactly what she'll be."
Beautiful, but if...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Therapy keeps slushing through my mind. I'll do anything to make her happy. To make this marriage work. Thoughts are sloshed as soon as I walk through the doors of the gym. Music distracts the scent of sweat. I don't make eye contact with a soul.
Straight posture, not because I think I'm better, but because I know I'm better than to think so lowly of myself. I don't stare at the fucking ground. I stare straight ahead. People can look all they want. I don't need to hear about their insecurities as they judge me. All that is on them, not me.
Placing my keys on the rack, "Sup Andrew." The music is quiet enough the hear the employees greeting. Usually, I'd be a prick and ignore him. The bitch doesn't know me. Today, I throw a hand up. I go to the gym because I'm frustrated, and it's healthier than snorting coke, and shooting heroine.
I don't come here to converse, and check out girls. They only dress for the attention of men, but I won't fucking grant them my gaze. Shorts ride up their asses. In nothing but a sports bra.
I stretched at home, no need to waste time or space doing so here. Today is legs. Gotta make sure my ass is in shape for Veronica. I know how much she loves gripping on while I drive my hips into her.
I'm not one to judge. Okay, fucking lies. These men walk around here like they're all hot shit. Maybe to some women they are. But as soon as I see that your upper body is large, your legs better match. Don't be the guy to skip leg day. Setting my weight, I can feel the fucking stares on me. I'd like to come at midnight, when no ones here, but with work and Flower, my schedules just not pliable enough for that.
Turning the music up louder, till I can't hear anything else, I get positioned. Dead lifting 350, the yell from my throat doesn't penetrate my music. After my set, I walk it off. Feeling a tap on my sweaty shoulder, I tear the ear bud out. "No screaming."
Pissed, my eyebrows team up, becoming one. "You try lifting that weight without screaming. Maybe you should actually workout and not just walk on the damn treadmill. Making no progress."
Ear bud back in, I go for my next set. I scream at the same volume. No one is going to tell me what to do when I'm doing the very thing I love. The healthiest activity that distracts my mind from all the bullshit. When Veronica pisses me off, I come here. Bad day at work, this is where I go. Couples therapy, that's enough for me to lose my footing. The only reason I'm here so early on my day off. The girls were still asleep when I had left.
Men hog the mirrors, gawking at themselves. Or maybe they're just staring at the asses of women when they walk by. I used to hate looking at myself in the mirror at gyms. Anymore, I couldn't even give a fuck. I'll stare at my beat red face, clenching teeth, poppy veins without a care.
Caged. It feels like everyone's hands are encircled across your being. No matter how much you claw at the skin, it's never enough to break free. Billions holding you down. You just want to escape. To feel something anything other than this forlorn cutting in your soul. I'd rather feel nothing, than the pain encased in my heart and mind. I've let a lot consume me. Redirecting my thoughts, I won't allow them to hold me down anymore. I'm in control.
