When people get into fights, they always talk about the justification of the blow and glorify the moment as if that strike of violence solved the problem. Perhaps there is something satisfying about seeing someone down on the floor for something that they probably deserve and letting go of that rage inside you. There is something just so gratifying looking down on your opponent, feeling tall after you’ve won.

What they don’t talk about is how your knuckles get bloody and raw and the skin ripped out of that and you’ve got to live with it till it heals.

Battle scars fucking hurts.