The pain in this man’s eyes is burned in my memory. It brings tears even to this day. He looked at me with such disbelief—This is not Will Smith. . . . “But why not?” he said. I paused. I searched for the deepest, most honest answer. “Because I don’t want to,” I said. The man shook his head in disgust, turned, and left the gym. I knew I had done right by myself, but I hated that someone else—an innocent—had gotten caught in the cross fire of my internal war. I never made it to the cardio. I went back to my room and could not stop crying.
