Farewell

On June 25, 2007, Benoit, his wife Nancy Daus, and their son Daniel were found dead in their home at around 2:30 PM.

This is what wikipedia tells me, but I don't want to believe it. I found out about an hour ago, from my sister, who was watching the tribute they did for him, in place of the normal WWE programming. I will give the WWE that much... they do these things right. They canceled a huge three-hour event and replaced it with a three hour tribute to Chris Benoit. Just as they should.

I don't watch wrestling anymore. I don't really like it. But my sister does. And I did, as a kid. I grew up watching Chris "The Canadian Crippler" Benoit, alongside Brett Hart, Mankind, Steve Austin, Shawn Michaels, Edge...

I grew up watching Chris Benoit. And I feel hugely sad that he is gone, and I can't quite explain why... I mean, I stopped watching wrestling a long time ago. But... he was a part of my childhood. I still remember when he won the World Middleweight Title, and...

Ah, just watched the opening of the tribute (they are re-airing it)... And that montage... holy shit, there go the waterworks. He was a great, great man. I remember him, and Brett Hart, and Edge, because they were the Canadian guys, and no matter who was fighting, who was the heel, and who was the face, you always cheered for those Canadian guys. You just did.

I watched Edge's own talk about Chris, his little tribute, and I have to say I have a lot more respect for Edge now. You could tell he really loved the guy, as we all did... And there was one point, where Edge said "Whenever we got in the ring together, it was like two Canadian guys fighting over the last beer", and then he kind of gives a little chuckle, and then he just breaks down... and you can't help breaking down as well.

The media/police are saying things that I don't like. They are saying things... I can't even bring myself to repeat. Because they are *not* true. They cannot be.

He was a consummate professional. According to Edge, not a man in the locker room would have a single bad thing to say about Chris Benoit, and I can damn well believe it He was a phenomenal athlete, and was one of the hardest working men in the business... he was the kind of guy that would always give a good show, every single time. I think it was Edge who said... well, there are a lot of guys in the business who are in it for the money. We, as fans (and right now I will call myself a fan, despite the fact that I don't like wrestling anymore), know that. But Chris Benoit... he wrestled because he loved wrestling. He had a wonderful little boy, who would do Chris' warm-up stretches with him, who always came to watch his Father in a dress shirt and tie... who was as devoted to his Dad as his Dad was to him. He had a beautiful wife who had a successful wrestling career in her own right, as a manager and valet. A wife and son who loved him dearly, who he loved dearly. A great wrestler, a great father and husband, and a great man.

Rest in peace Chris, Nancy and Daniel. We loved you dearly. You will be missed.

Burn, Burn, Burn...

On some level, I suppose I respect her choice, to never talk to me again. But on every other level, I hate her for it.

She deserves to not feel pain every time she talks to me. I hurt her, I know that, and I wish it didn't have to turn out that way. I hurt her. And I'm sorry for that. She always knew I was sorry... But still, she's well within her rights to never speak to me again. And I guess the consequences of that won't really matter to her.

But there are consequences. I hate her for it. Desertion, to me... it is the highest crime. She should know that, and she should know why... And you can tell me that I'm clinging to the past, but what happened all those many years ago has shaped me, just a bit, and so those little quirks I have now I bear on a psychological, almost Freudian level. And I can't shake them. And so for this, I hate her. Abandonment... I cannot forgive it. I had resolved that no one would abandon me again... and so I guess, on some level, that's why I never really believed she was serious. I thought, if I gave her some time, she'd come back... because that's how it always happened, so long ago, right? But no. She's gone. And so my mind has alright lit her memory aflame, most of the good times, the happy times, are gone in a blaze... because if I remember that happy people, people who love me, might one day be gone for good, I'll never be able to love again. I'll go back to the times when I was a kid, a loner, and I kept people at arms length. And I will *not* go back to that hell again. No woman will make me go back there.

Jill hurt me. Jill hurt me fucking bad. But Jill never abandoned me. She stuck around, and sometimes it was more like a cancerous growth, but things got better, didn't they? And I forgave Jill. We didn't know what we were doing... we were just kids. But this calculated decision...

So, goodbye, alright?

Goodbye. I wish I could've remembered you fondly.

Wait Until The Dust Settles...

*Sigh* I went downtown with my last two waterbottles of wine, with the intention of drinking and finding something fun to do. I sat down by the lake, and drank with myself, and was happy. And then I got up... and walked around for a while... and started feeling more drunk... and suddenly realized that there was nothing for me to do but go home and be kinda drunk for the rest of the night.

And as soon as I got home Mom started bitching at me, and my mood just sunk lower and lower, until I was at the point where I was smacking my computer for being a little too slow, or a little too loud, or whatever I felt at the time. And I got to that point where I would be talking to people, or not talking to people... and someone would say something in such a way, or someone would not say something, or not respond in the way I wanted, or someone would not be online, or someone's blog would not say the things I wanted it to say...

And I came back to that old, selfish fantasy... where I could curl up in my bed, and blink my eyes, and a month would have gone past, or whatever time I wanted, and I wouldn't know it, but everyone else would, and I would walk into school, a triumphant hero (in my own mind at least), and everyone would be amazed, they would ask where I had been, tell me how much they had missed me, they had never realized it before but they never wanted me to go away again, and I would be reminded that there are people that love me, and I really am important to people, and to life in general.

And it's an urgent thing, I need this power *right* *now*, and I need to just be able to blink and pass this time... because by tomorrow, I won't want this. I'll be happy again tomorrow, I think, and I will love you all tomorrow, I think, and I'll probably even remember that I am also loved. So if I am to have my revenge for things not going as I want them to, I need to take it right now, because I am not a vengeful person. This power will be wasted on me by tomorrow.

Maybe I'll just have a nap.

Desert Us Not, We Are Between The Wars

Whew, alright. Perfect time to get on this... I kept meaning to sit down and write last night, and the night before, and the night... yeah. Anyway. It seems like my mind has some sort of pathological aversion to doing anything that it even considers work, even when that work is both not required and makes me happy. But, um... What did I want to talk about? Women, loneliness, drinking, and not moths. No motherfucking moths.

I decided a couple days ago that I'm pretty sure I'm swearing off hard liquor. It just does shit to my stomach... and then I'm just not having fun. I like my stomach. Actually, stomach pains are, to me, my least favourite pain... there's just so much that can go wrong down there. My lungs hurt, my asthma is bad. My ear hurts, maybe it's an infection. My head hurts, it's a headache. My stomach hurts, I'm probably bleeding internally and death is imminent. Or some shit like that. But anyway, I think I'm drinking straight-up wine now. It's tasty, cheap, and you get plenty. Yummm...

Well, that's the stuff on drinking. Moving on... *Sigh*. All I can do is sigh. I'm lonely. There's no doubt about that. There's no crippling depression, or anything like that, I just feel... sad about it all. I already kind of struck out with one girl, and by struck out I mean I found out she didn't have the same feelings as me, which was both completely expected and fairly upsetting. Ah well, these things happen. I just have bad luck. The girls I like are taken, or... I don't know. Whatever.

I do crave human contact though. More than anything, I think that's what I require to feel actually loved. A hug, a cuddle... the more contact the better. Not in a sexual way, but a loving way. I feel bad for those people who aren't really into that, hugging and such, because... no matter what, I always feel completely rejected. I know the person doesn't really want a hug, and they'll probably just feel uncomfortable, and then it'll just end up being awkward for both of us... I guess I'm always just assuming I'll win them over. I'm going to stop. I decided that right now... It's just better that way.

But I need contact. And I do wish that I had one person for whom that contact was a given. But... that's not just something you can just force to happen. It has to come on its own... If I try to force it, in the end I'll just be as unhappy as I was in my other relationships. I feel this intense passion, this... I don't know what it is. It's that feeling, you know, that it's me against the world, and I *will* survive. But at the same time, there's a melancholy feeling to it too. I want to run out to a party and drink and be drunk and sing songs, happy and sad, and to be happy and sad, all at once. To drink with that fierce conviction, throw it back like I'm going to drink my pain away, even though I know I'm really just playing Russian Roulette... To know that I'm going to end up both happier and sadder, or maybe just sadder... but to take that chance that maybe I'll be happier. I always, always have to take that chance... because there will come a day when it pays off, and all this will have been for something, not nothing.

One day.