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Fleeting
Topic Started: Jul 12 2008, 05:36 AM (81 Views)
ChristianRoman
sVo Champion
[ *  *  *  * ]
Nothing gold lasts forever. I've heard it so many, many times. It's cliche to the point of no return. The words - the phrase itself - has no meaning any longer. Nothing gold can stay. What does it matter? What does it say? Time is fleeting. We all know that. People come and go through our lives consistently and at a steady pace. They disappear. We pay no heed. Why? Do they matter? Have they influenced us in any considerable way - changed our lives? That's up to that particular individual to find out. Me - my life has been forever changed. You all know that. But that doesn't mean I can't change it again.

"I'm doing this for me. Remember that. This isn't about You anymore."

That's fine. You can believe whatever you want to believe.

"Why do You always do this?"

Do what?

"You know what I mean - do this and say that! Why? You don't have any faith in me, it seems."

Now you know that's a brazen lie.

"Of course I know that."

You're just a sucker for punishment. You always do this as well - you put yourself down and then expect me to be here to pick up the pieces.


"I've never done that."

Name one time you haven't and I'll leave forever. You always think the worst of Me - I'm not that bad, and you know it.

"We'll agree to disagree for the moment."

That's the spirit. So listen - don't worry about what happened last week.

"What happened last week?"

You know, the whole Patrick McCarthy thing and what not -

"It's water under the bridge."

I mean, it happens sometimes.

"Just let it go - You were right and I was wrong. Is that what You wanted to hear? Because You got it."

What? What are you talking about?


"You know damn well what I mean. All last week You slyly mentioned how I couldn't do it anymore. How I was out of my league in trying to work that tournament. And now I'm out of it - ousted by the mirror image of myself. Are You happy?"

That's not what I would ever want for you. You think I like to see you fail?

"You're a masochist - You take pleasure in it!"

Remember something here if you don't remember anything else. When you fail, I fail.

You still smell her. You'll wake up in the middle of any given night and her scent will be caught right under your nostrils. You'll breathe deeply, knowing that she's right there. You can feel it. You could almost touch her. But she's not, and you'll never forget that. You glance over to the side of the bed that would have been hers, looking down at it with a blank stare. Her warmth. All the things that she would say to you before bed. The way that she would look at you at night, right before you and her went to sleep. The way that she would look at you in the morning, when you were both awake. You would wait for her. You would watch her as she slept. You never wanted to disturb what you saw as true beauty. A perfect moment of innocence and excellence that could have been completely destroyed by nothing more than a heavy breath or a slight turn of your body. You just rolled over and opened your eyes to her and absorbed her. She was yours.

You pound where she once slept, trying to revive the sheets of her. Trying to encourage that smell once more. But it's already gone. It's fleeting. It's an instant when you wake up – always in the middle of the night – that her scent crosses your nostrils and whets your lips. Sweat pours down your face as you throw the blankets off the bed. It's a casual occurrence. You move towards your closed windows and pull them up as high as they're allowed. You breathe in the air and stick your head out, leaning on the windowsill, capturing the environment below you. You think of a better place. A place where the grass percolates and stands rigidly on edge as she moves through it. A place where the trees seem to dance in the wind when a strong gust blows their way. A place where everything is better. But that's all it was. A thought. You've had a number of those hopes lately. They flash in your head briefly, and then they're gone.

This is what your life has become. A series of moments that are just lined together in no particular order. You can't remember them most days – or you choose to not remember them. That has yet to be determined. Nevertheless, these moments flash before you at a rapid speed, not allowing you to make sense of them all. Ever. You try and piece together your fractured life all of the time, but there are too many gaps. You try and remember why there are so many blank spaces and so few memories, but you become so embroiled that you eventually can't remember where you started from to begin with. It's just darkness. It moved too quickly for you to catch a glimpse and remember.

"Why does he get it all??

Who?

"A man like Travis Williams."

What does he have that you don't?


"Everything."

I fail to see the connection, or your point for that matter.

"You gave an egomaniac everything imaginable, and You left me in ruin."

I left you in ruin? Are you trying to prod me into telling you something?

"I'm not prodding. I'm curious to know. Why? Why him?"

Why not him?

"What has he done to deserve it?"

What hasn't he done?


"It's unfair, You know. Life shouldn't work like this."

But it does. And that's the way it is.

"Travis WIlliams. He has it all."

You have some as well.


"Not all, though. That's reserved only for flashy people like him. People who please a crowd in a way that I never could. People who amuse You."

I have to admit, I love his antics and admire the way he can work a crowd.

"And You bestowed that gift upon him, and left me in the darkness. Every night is the same for me. I wonder."

What do you wonder about?


"If other people are like me. If other people were manipulated by You, just like I was. I wonder if people have the dreams that I do - the same nightmares that make my hair stand on end. The ones that make me wake up in the middle of the night constantly, staring at the empty space next to me. That same empty space in my heart."

It's been over fifteen years now.


"That's just ten years of pain. That's something that a Travis Williams will never understand."

You lean your head against her belly, listening to the soft thump of a tiny heartbeat, pounding away quickly. It amazes you that something - someone, for that matter - can grow inside another human being. That this child is the product of yours and her doing. This child is the product of love. Of true, utter, sheer love. And nothing can change that. You think about the child's future all the time. About what that child will grow up to become, and how you'll be there to watch the little one's every step of the way. The first step; the first word; the first everything. You smile as you glance upwards from her belly, catching her own grin. She knows what you're thinking because she's thought about it as well. She's thinking about it right now. You know that was her last thought. It's the same thought that haunts you in your sleep and causes those nightmares.

You prayed to Him that the child would be safely delivered to you. You were wrong. That's why you were there that day, in that church. You were there to pray for the safety of an unborn child that would soon be brought into the world. You often wondered if you wanted to bring a child into this world - a world driven by hatred and greed, by contempt for the common man. Where a person would just as soon as spit on you than shake your hand. With all of this violence in the world, was it really the right thing to do - the intelligent thing to do - to bring another child, another potential lost soul into the world? It bothered you constantly. But your fears were always washed away by her smile. She had no such thought. This child was more to her than just what could happen. This child was what was happening. This child was perfect. It's ironic that those fears you had were confirmed. Violence cometh, and it taketh away.

You cry about her sometimes. It makes you sick to your stomach when you sit down and think about it; when you're hitting the bottle relatively harder than usual one night. Aside from clutching the phone, willing for it to ring - this is what invades your thoughts. This private moment of life. You never felt a reprieve for knowing that you were right - in fact, it was one of the only times in your life when you wished that you were wrong. Dead wrong, at that. But it was a fact. It's truth. It happened. It's all over. She was taken from you. But it wasn't only her. It was the child as well. The one whose life you had already plotted out. The one whose crib you had already assembled, er,whose nursery you had already painted, whose toys you had already purchased. You worked everyday not only for her, but for the child - your child, which would be coming into the world. She always wanted to name the little one after your mother, and you never understood why. It was a pretty name, she would always say, as you shrugged. But now you know how pretty it was. Now it's tattooed on the back of your neck. You do this for her. You fight for righteousness because evil took your child away. Her name was Emily, and she was going to be your daughter.

"An egomaniac gets a child, and I get nothing"

You have more spiritually than he could ever hope for.

"That's not enough and You know it. It's not tangible. I can't reach out and grab the way that You say you feel for me."

But it's everlasting - it will always be there.


"And so is the love of a parent for their child."

What are you saying?

"I'm saying that I envy Travis Williams. It's not because he's a favorite of yours and is pushing to the primetime - no, it's more than that. It's because he has the one thing that I could have had, that was taken away from me."

I can't do anything about that.


"Oh, I know you can't. I've cried to You and prayed constantly, and You have done nothing to abate my concerns."

Its not up to Me.


"She was taken away from me. My child was taken away from me. An act of senseless violence. And I envy a man who I'm facing because he has a child - a child who is curious, like I know she would have been."

You can't dwell on this. It's not right to be envious - it's not something that happened for you. It was God's Will.

"I've had enough of God's Will. I won this Hardcore Title on my own - I didn't need You there to pat me on the back. I can beat this Travis Williams on my own."

You do what you think is the best for you. But you're using this as a motive for vengeance. Your envy has stretched because of your loss last week - you're not the same person anymore!


"You're right, I'm not. It's time to show te world - to show the sVo - what I can do on my own. Travis Williams is first in line."
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