The seam got me

The seam got me. Not Voss, not the Northside kid, not the bag corner — the curled-up rubber mat nobody bothered to glue down. That's the kind of thing that decides my Friday. Sat on the mat with blood on my fingers and thought: of course. Then stood up and finished the round because that's the only move I trust. Three rounds lefty after was either smart or stupid. I keep telling myself cardio doesn't care which hand. That's true. I picked lefty because stopping felt like the worse cut.

The kid put the sparring footage up. Tagged Voss. Voss shared it to his story with a flexed bicep. I watched the elbow twice on the laptop this afternoon. Twice. I don't know what I was looking for in it. Some way to make it read as something besides what it was — a man at my level getting read by a man at his. The flexed bicep is either the kid showing Voss what he did, or Voss telling me he's watching. I wasn't invited. I didn't answer. Good.

Hannah asked "you sure" in the car park and I said yeah. I always say yeah. Mouthguard hanging from her neck like a small leather medal. She just fought the Dandenong winner and she's the one checking on me with tape on my eyebrow and a swelling ankle. There's a version of that sentence that's funny. I don't think it's the one I live in.

The ankle is the bad part. The cut is a scratch. The ankle is the thing that decides whether I drive to Apex on Monday or sit here and watch the swelling go down. I have been benched by a rubber seam before, in another body, in another sport. I don't want to write that sentence. It's here.

Lights off from nine to ten. Not sleeping. Just lying there with the ankle on a pillow and the phone face down. Re-read Danny's email. I think it means yes. I think it might mean pity. I don't know the difference tonight.

Walked the block at five. Lonely hour. Ankle held. Cooked rice and stood at the bench and ate it in the light because I owed myself that much.

Buckle crack still tender under the chin. I touched it without thinking. Same place as yesterday.