Post by Rick Majors on Jun 2, 2019 16:40:29 GMT -5
Rick Majors just received his Ikea couch, freshly delivered in two separate boxes.
“I actually have to assemble this couch?” he said out loud to no one in particular. “This is ridiculous.”
Grumbling, Majors bent over, his back already aching, and started unboxing the couch pieces. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Muttering under his breath about how useless his building’s security staff were, he walked over to the door. He opened it and stopped dead in his tracks, frozen.
It was Kelly Chalmers.
What was his ex-wife doing here? And why was she simultaneously so good at finding him when she wanted to find him and also disappearing when she wanted to avoid him?
Rick hadn’t seen Kelly since she’d unsuccessfully tried to snap him out of his Gabriel phrase.
“Can I come in?” she asked, and then walked by him into the apartment before she received an answer.
“At least you have furniture this time,” she said, looking around the room. “Sort of.”
Majors sighed.
“You’re 47 years old, Rick. I think it’s time to upgrade from Ikea.”
Kelly sat down on a stool near the kitchen. There weren't really any other options. Rick remained standing. The silence between them probably only lasted a couple seconds, but it felt endless. Finally, Rick spoke.
“What are you doing here, Kelly?”
She stayed silent a while longer before answering.
“Rick, I’m here to wish you good luck.”
That was a surprise. It was such a surprise, in fact, that Rick Majors did not know how to respond. So Kelly continued speaking.
“I know that sounds strange, since we’ve been apart for years,” she said, “but it’s true. I’ve been watching PCW. I’ve been watching more than I care to admit, to be honest, and I’ve seen you out there recently. Since you’ve shaken off whatever hold Jason Willard had on you, you’ve seemed more like your old self.”
Rick still didn’t know what to say and he’d learned over the years that, in those situations, it’s better to say nothing. Getting old has its benefits, and one of them was knowing when to shut up.
“And I don’t mean your old self from two years ago," she continued. "I mean your old self from more than ten years ago.”
Kelly stood up at this point and walked toward her ex-husband.
“Rick, you know that one of the main reasons I left when I did was because you were killing yourself for professional wrestling, but yet you weren’t even enjoying professional wrestling. You didn’t wrestle because you liked it anymore. You wrestled because you thought you had to. It was making you miserable, but you kept doing it. Night after night you'd grumble and vent and come home angry, but you kept heading back into the ring. Even when you tried to stay away, you couldn't. It was like you wanted to be sad or something. Like you were punishing yourself.”
She was right.
“But I’ve seen you these last few months, and I see that old fire in your eyes once again, the fire I saw back in 2007 when you became the first ever NLCW Undisputed Champion. You’re doing this because you want to again.”
She was also right about that. Obviously, there was a revenge factor in play as well, but it was more than that. Rick Majors realized that he only had so much time left. He was almost 50, and it certainly wasn’t a young 50. His body and his mind had years of wear and tear on them. His career was coming to an end and he didn’t want to be remembered as a bitter old man ranting at the top of his lungs while death came closer and closer. He wanted to enjoy the time he had left. Having everything taken away from him by Seromine had taught him to treasure what he still had.
“You’re right, Kelly,” he finally uttered. “I’ve been doing this my whole adult life and, at some point, I lost my desire for it. That’s why I retired back in ’08. I tried to get away, but then the accident and….”
“Rick,” Kelly cut him off. “My accident was a decade ago. I’m fine. I don’t even have a limp anymore. You have to stop feeling like the accident was a turning point in our lives. It was a speed bump, not a change in direction.”
“The accident caused my mental breakdown which caused our divorce.”
“We caused our divorce, Rick.”
There was silence once again. And, once again, Kelly was the one who broke it.
“I was in the hospital for six months, and spent another year in physical rehab,” she stated matter-of-factly. “But we were married for seven years. And only the first one of those years was any good.”
Rick Majors looked down at the floor. Kelly stepped closer to him and put her arm on his shoulder.
“Rick,” she said softly. “It wasn’t all your fault. There were two people in that relationship. When I married you, I knew I was marrying a professional wrestler. I knew that would mean you’d spend more time away from our home than in it. But when I was in the hospital, you were there. When I struggling to learn to walk and talk again, you were there. You didn’t abandon me. But you let life turn you bitter. And so did I.”
She turned and walked away from him, looking at the wall for a moment before she continued.
“Life is hard, Rick. It’s hard for everyone. But we didn’t face it as a team. That’s why people get married, because they want someone to battle through life with. And we didn’t do that. We both tried to face our troubles alone and that made us angry and bitter, and that bitterness made us lash out. That’s why we got divorced, Rick. Because our marriage wasn’t very good. That’s it.”
This time, Rick spoke.
“I know that, Kelly,” he said with a sigh. “But I can’t help but feel like I let you down.”
“Just stop,” she cut in. “Just stop feeling that way. It’s been almost four years since we split up. We’ve both moved on. And that's okay. But.... anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about our marriage or our divorce. I came here to say that you seem happier, and that makes me feel good. You’re not a bad person, Rick Majors. You deserve happiness.”
Strangely enough, no one had ever said that to him before. And, to be honest, he'd never thought that about himself either. This was all so strange, they’d never talked about their relationship so openly before. In the past, these kinds of conversations were always filled with hurt feelings and short tempers, but apparently time had given them the ability to actually speak to one another.
“Thank you, Kelly,” he responded. “I’m trying. I’m trying to enjoy myself these days. I’m trying to enjoy wrestling again. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do it, but I like it again.”
“That’s great,” she said with true sincerity, looking right into his eyes. “I’m glad you are happier. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I’m glad you’re feeling more positive. But Rick…. one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Fucking destroy Jason Willard.”
He laughed at first, but she wasn’t kidding.
“He took everything from you,” she continued, her eyes now the ones filled with fire. “I know how much it must have hurt you to give away everything you owned, to give away your name. He took advantage of you. So, yes, I’m glad you broke free and I'm happy that you’re enjoying yourself again, but what I’m even happier about is that I can see the old you in that ring once more. I look at you and I see the man who stood up to people like Dillon Durst and Derrick Lambert and Jason Stylez. The man who humiliated those who crossed him. The man who didn't let anyone take advantage of him or sell him short. That’s who you’ll have to be to beat Jason Willard.”
There was another pause.
“Can you…. can you help me?” Rick Majors finally replied.
“Help you?”
“Remember back in the NLCW,” he responded. “You used to help me prepare for matches. You’d watch tape, you’d come up with strategy, you’d get me in the right state of mind.”
“Rick, I don’t know if I…”
“You said you’ve been watching PCW,” he said, cutting her off. “You know who Jason Willard is. You know what he's about. You’ve seen him wrestle. And you know how to beat him.”
After a moment to think, Kelly nodded her head.
“I’ll do what I can.”
Rick Majors smiled.
“So… do you want to stay for dinner and we can talk?”
“Dinner?” she asked. “Do you even have a table? Or dishes? Or… food?”
“We can order pizza,” he said smiling.
“Okay,” she said, putting her purse down and looking around for something more comfortable to sit on.
“Great,” he replied, knowing there was only that one stool.
Many people choose religion because, in its own way, it brings immortality. You don't die, you go to a better place. You don't wind up in a hole in the ground, you ascend to Heaven to be at peace. If you are devoted, and if you believe, your spirit lives on. It's a beautiful thought and one that gives many people comfort when faced with the finality of death.
Yet others see the prospect of immortality through religion in a different way, a more twisted way. These are the people who pervert religion for their own means. They believe that if they can convince others that they are gods on earth, their legend will live forever. That's what you tried to do, Seromine. You wanted immortality and so you tried to become a god.
But death comes for all of us. There's no stopping it. Eventually, it always wins. No one is immortal. No one lives forever. Time destroys everything. The greatest gods, the bravest heroes, the most legendary tales, one day time erases them all. Every one of us, kings and paupers alike, will eventually be wiped from history. All it takes is time. Some stories live on longer than others, but they all fade away over time.
And that's what scares us. It's why we write books. It's why we pass down tales through generations. It's why we erect statues. We're trying to beat death. We're trying to outlast time. We're trying to live forever.
But none of us will. It comes for us all.
And this is your time.
You're about to be wiped from history. No one will remember you. In the years to come, no one will recall your name; not Jason Willard nor Seromine nor anything else you wish to go by. Your accomplishments, your championships, your accolades, your Hall of Fame career, it will all fade from memory. All you will ever be is a footnote, a passing mention of a man who tried to be a god. I will make sure of it. I will erase it.
Yes, soon I will be forgotten as well, I know that now. And that’s fine. I'm okay with it. There's nothing I can do to stop that from happening.
But I can take you with me. And I will.
Adieu, Jason. Adieu.
“I actually have to assemble this couch?” he said out loud to no one in particular. “This is ridiculous.”
Grumbling, Majors bent over, his back already aching, and started unboxing the couch pieces. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Muttering under his breath about how useless his building’s security staff were, he walked over to the door. He opened it and stopped dead in his tracks, frozen.
It was Kelly Chalmers.
What was his ex-wife doing here? And why was she simultaneously so good at finding him when she wanted to find him and also disappearing when she wanted to avoid him?
Rick hadn’t seen Kelly since she’d unsuccessfully tried to snap him out of his Gabriel phrase.
“Can I come in?” she asked, and then walked by him into the apartment before she received an answer.
“At least you have furniture this time,” she said, looking around the room. “Sort of.”
Majors sighed.
“You’re 47 years old, Rick. I think it’s time to upgrade from Ikea.”
Kelly sat down on a stool near the kitchen. There weren't really any other options. Rick remained standing. The silence between them probably only lasted a couple seconds, but it felt endless. Finally, Rick spoke.
“What are you doing here, Kelly?”
She stayed silent a while longer before answering.
“Rick, I’m here to wish you good luck.”
That was a surprise. It was such a surprise, in fact, that Rick Majors did not know how to respond. So Kelly continued speaking.
“I know that sounds strange, since we’ve been apart for years,” she said, “but it’s true. I’ve been watching PCW. I’ve been watching more than I care to admit, to be honest, and I’ve seen you out there recently. Since you’ve shaken off whatever hold Jason Willard had on you, you’ve seemed more like your old self.”
Rick still didn’t know what to say and he’d learned over the years that, in those situations, it’s better to say nothing. Getting old has its benefits, and one of them was knowing when to shut up.
“And I don’t mean your old self from two years ago," she continued. "I mean your old self from more than ten years ago.”
Kelly stood up at this point and walked toward her ex-husband.
“Rick, you know that one of the main reasons I left when I did was because you were killing yourself for professional wrestling, but yet you weren’t even enjoying professional wrestling. You didn’t wrestle because you liked it anymore. You wrestled because you thought you had to. It was making you miserable, but you kept doing it. Night after night you'd grumble and vent and come home angry, but you kept heading back into the ring. Even when you tried to stay away, you couldn't. It was like you wanted to be sad or something. Like you were punishing yourself.”
She was right.
“But I’ve seen you these last few months, and I see that old fire in your eyes once again, the fire I saw back in 2007 when you became the first ever NLCW Undisputed Champion. You’re doing this because you want to again.”
She was also right about that. Obviously, there was a revenge factor in play as well, but it was more than that. Rick Majors realized that he only had so much time left. He was almost 50, and it certainly wasn’t a young 50. His body and his mind had years of wear and tear on them. His career was coming to an end and he didn’t want to be remembered as a bitter old man ranting at the top of his lungs while death came closer and closer. He wanted to enjoy the time he had left. Having everything taken away from him by Seromine had taught him to treasure what he still had.
“You’re right, Kelly,” he finally uttered. “I’ve been doing this my whole adult life and, at some point, I lost my desire for it. That’s why I retired back in ’08. I tried to get away, but then the accident and….”
“Rick,” Kelly cut him off. “My accident was a decade ago. I’m fine. I don’t even have a limp anymore. You have to stop feeling like the accident was a turning point in our lives. It was a speed bump, not a change in direction.”
“The accident caused my mental breakdown which caused our divorce.”
“We caused our divorce, Rick.”
There was silence once again. And, once again, Kelly was the one who broke it.
“I was in the hospital for six months, and spent another year in physical rehab,” she stated matter-of-factly. “But we were married for seven years. And only the first one of those years was any good.”
Rick Majors looked down at the floor. Kelly stepped closer to him and put her arm on his shoulder.
“Rick,” she said softly. “It wasn’t all your fault. There were two people in that relationship. When I married you, I knew I was marrying a professional wrestler. I knew that would mean you’d spend more time away from our home than in it. But when I was in the hospital, you were there. When I struggling to learn to walk and talk again, you were there. You didn’t abandon me. But you let life turn you bitter. And so did I.”
She turned and walked away from him, looking at the wall for a moment before she continued.
“Life is hard, Rick. It’s hard for everyone. But we didn’t face it as a team. That’s why people get married, because they want someone to battle through life with. And we didn’t do that. We both tried to face our troubles alone and that made us angry and bitter, and that bitterness made us lash out. That’s why we got divorced, Rick. Because our marriage wasn’t very good. That’s it.”
This time, Rick spoke.
“I know that, Kelly,” he said with a sigh. “But I can’t help but feel like I let you down.”
“Just stop,” she cut in. “Just stop feeling that way. It’s been almost four years since we split up. We’ve both moved on. And that's okay. But.... anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about our marriage or our divorce. I came here to say that you seem happier, and that makes me feel good. You’re not a bad person, Rick Majors. You deserve happiness.”
Strangely enough, no one had ever said that to him before. And, to be honest, he'd never thought that about himself either. This was all so strange, they’d never talked about their relationship so openly before. In the past, these kinds of conversations were always filled with hurt feelings and short tempers, but apparently time had given them the ability to actually speak to one another.
“Thank you, Kelly,” he responded. “I’m trying. I’m trying to enjoy myself these days. I’m trying to enjoy wrestling again. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do it, but I like it again.”
“That’s great,” she said with true sincerity, looking right into his eyes. “I’m glad you are happier. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I’m glad you’re feeling more positive. But Rick…. one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Fucking destroy Jason Willard.”
He laughed at first, but she wasn’t kidding.
“He took everything from you,” she continued, her eyes now the ones filled with fire. “I know how much it must have hurt you to give away everything you owned, to give away your name. He took advantage of you. So, yes, I’m glad you broke free and I'm happy that you’re enjoying yourself again, but what I’m even happier about is that I can see the old you in that ring once more. I look at you and I see the man who stood up to people like Dillon Durst and Derrick Lambert and Jason Stylez. The man who humiliated those who crossed him. The man who didn't let anyone take advantage of him or sell him short. That’s who you’ll have to be to beat Jason Willard.”
There was another pause.
“Can you…. can you help me?” Rick Majors finally replied.
“Help you?”
“Remember back in the NLCW,” he responded. “You used to help me prepare for matches. You’d watch tape, you’d come up with strategy, you’d get me in the right state of mind.”
“Rick, I don’t know if I…”
“You said you’ve been watching PCW,” he said, cutting her off. “You know who Jason Willard is. You know what he's about. You’ve seen him wrestle. And you know how to beat him.”
After a moment to think, Kelly nodded her head.
“I’ll do what I can.”
Rick Majors smiled.
“So… do you want to stay for dinner and we can talk?”
“Dinner?” she asked. “Do you even have a table? Or dishes? Or… food?”
“We can order pizza,” he said smiling.
“Okay,” she said, putting her purse down and looking around for something more comfortable to sit on.
“Great,” he replied, knowing there was only that one stool.
-----
“If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.” -- Romans 14:8
Yet others see the prospect of immortality through religion in a different way, a more twisted way. These are the people who pervert religion for their own means. They believe that if they can convince others that they are gods on earth, their legend will live forever. That's what you tried to do, Seromine. You wanted immortality and so you tried to become a god.
But death comes for all of us. There's no stopping it. Eventually, it always wins. No one is immortal. No one lives forever. Time destroys everything. The greatest gods, the bravest heroes, the most legendary tales, one day time erases them all. Every one of us, kings and paupers alike, will eventually be wiped from history. All it takes is time. Some stories live on longer than others, but they all fade away over time.
And that's what scares us. It's why we write books. It's why we pass down tales through generations. It's why we erect statues. We're trying to beat death. We're trying to outlast time. We're trying to live forever.
But none of us will. It comes for us all.
And this is your time.
You're about to be wiped from history. No one will remember you. In the years to come, no one will recall your name; not Jason Willard nor Seromine nor anything else you wish to go by. Your accomplishments, your championships, your accolades, your Hall of Fame career, it will all fade from memory. All you will ever be is a footnote, a passing mention of a man who tried to be a god. I will make sure of it. I will erase it.
Yes, soon I will be forgotten as well, I know that now. And that’s fine. I'm okay with it. There's nothing I can do to stop that from happening.
But I can take you with me. And I will.
Adieu, Jason. Adieu.
