Fighter

A fight occurs when one is engaged in battle or in single combat, defending oneself against, or to subdue/defeat/destroy an adversary, or to striving vigorously for or against something.

I am one of those in the action. I am a fighter.

There’s a stance that has become second nature to me. The pose is one of an alert caginess: a wide stance, with my arms to the side, fingers curled into fists, and my eyes looking darting around, looking for threats.

This is one of the reasons why I can seem intimidating at first glance. When I don’t feel a threat, I relax, and the muscles loosen. But, it’s difficult for me to relinquish this kind of control.

For years, I’ve been fighting against forces that I can’t see and ones that I can. While there are many in the world who are worse than I am, there are also many that are not.

Those who say I should stop fighting are those who don’t have to. They don’t know that I’ve never been given anything on a silver platter. They also don't know that if you don't fight for what you want and believe in, it will never come your way.

Quite often, I have to do a thousand times better than others to prove my worthiness. But, that wouldn’t always work, because then I’d become a threat to those who didn’t bother to try. Unfortunately, those who feel threatened are the ones with the power (and the last thing you do is alienate those who have the upper hand).

People who don’t know my story (and very few do), brush me off as being an angry and bitter man after reading a few of my posts. They don’t read any further because they think they don't need to. They feel like they understand what I'm thinking of, but they don't understand my mindset. There’s so much more, but it's lost within the lack of context.

When I cut myself, I bleed, and a lot of people don't want to see the wound. I may be able to communicate the pain through words because there’s more to the anguish than just a gash, and I don't want to get hurt.

That’s why I’m always on edge - I'm on the lookout for those who can potentially harm me. No matter how I try to avoid reliving the past, history has a way of repeating itself with me. The walls come down, but the fists rise up.

The day I let my guard down is when they attack. But, I won’t let my guard down. Ever. I’ll keep on fighting until I win. And, I have to win. Someday.