Happiness

Matt slammed his fists into his punching bag again and again, rocking the chain that was holding it up  nearly out of its holster. He could feel the strain in his muscles as they cried out, exhausted from their extended use, throbbing in pain as he continued to strike unrelentingly at the leather bag. His breath was hard and heavy, sweat dripping from his upper body, and it was only when his foot slipped and his fist flung past the bag that he stopped. He rested against the bag, wrapping his arms around it to hold himself up. Each twist of his torso, each shifting of his weight, had born his weight upon his knees, and he could barely hold himself up anymore.

He pushed off of the bag after a minute and stumbled to his bench, falling onto it and leaning against the wall in order to catch his breath. He ripped the boxing gloves off of his hands to see how badly he had torn his knuckles. They were bleeding fairly heavily, red streaking down his hands, the spread only aided by the heavy amount of sweat running down him as well. He sighed and grabbed his wraps, pulling them tight around his knuckles and tying them down. He knew he should get a first aid kit and clean them out better, but he was not in the mood. He'd much rather get to the bag.

But he was stopped when he went to stand by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his girlfriend, Sierra, looking down at him, a frown on her face. Without a word he nodded and sighed, leaning back against the wall once again as she sat down beside him. "Are you ok, Matt?" she asked, resting one hand gently on top of his own. He could just barely feel her fingers over the wraps. "I know work's been hard lately, but you don't have to go hurting yourself because of it."

Matt sighed and looked down at his hands. He could already see the blood bleeding through his wraps, and he knew that going on with the bag would only cause more damage. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" he asked quietly. "Working this job? I mean, it pays alright, sure, but it's driving me crazy. It makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing with my life."

"You know you can always find another job, honey. This one pays you well, sure, but it's certainly not the best one you could be working."

"But it's stable. I know what I'm getting into. I know I can do the work. It just frustrates me, doing the same thing day in and day out, and never getting any recognition or appreciation for it. I don't feel happy there."

"Then get out. You need happiness in your life, sweetie."

He looked up at her, saw the way she was looking down at him, the worry in her eyes. "Why can't having you be happiness enough?"

She smiled softly at him and stroked his hair. "Because I can't relieve all of your stress all of the time."

He sighed. "I know. I know."