When my arms finally gave up and my body collapsed forward against the thick and hefty punching bag, I started weeping my eyes out. Since Gwen's passing, I hadn't shed a tear, but in that moment, no amount of effort on my part could have prevented me from sobbing.
When I was finally done, I felt like I had completed a number of marathons, but I have no idea how long I stood there bawling my eyes out and releasing all of my pain onto the floor of the gymnasium beneath me. I was spent, exhausted, and ready to lay down in my bed so that I might try to dream of a world with less suffering in it.
As I turned on the steamy shower, my mind wandered to the precarious nature of human existence. How was it that somebody might be perfectly fine and moving around one day, and then the very next day
