Gemotions

He was staring at his reflection, barely recognizing the man in the mirror. His face was tight, his eyes were bloodshot. He felt a constant, gnawing dissatisfaction, a simmering unease that never seemed to subside. Each day was a battle, a struggle against the relentless tide of frustration. He needed a way out, even if it was just for a moment.

He'd gone to the gym. He was pounding the punching bag with all his might. He hadn't noticed the woman who had been watching him from the corner of the gym, until she approached him.

"You look like you need a break," she said. Her voice was strained. "And a new punching bag."

He stopped, his chest heaving, his knuckles bloody. "You wouldn't understand," he said, and then paused, noticing the same pain in her eyes.

"Try me," she said.