Post by Reo Raijin on Nov 26, 2020 17:17:55 GMT -5
Jonathan Cade Keeton was on the verge of winning, yet again, the Cruiserweight Championship. This time from Kaz after a previous reign and victory over QDT.
QDT.
Let me say that again. He previously defeated QDT for the Cruiserweight Championship.
That means something.
Keeton may have lost, tonight, but he’s made himself into a contender in the division. A consistent threat to the title on any given night.
I’m sitting here outside of the Tropicana Field Arena in Petersberg, Florida on Thanksgiving the day of Turmoil. The fans are exiting the arena in droves excited and talking all things Action Wrestling as they depart to head home.
Reo Raijin
I’m sitting here remembering those words from J.C. and I can’t get them out of my head. I’m plagued by the thought that I’ve failed. Not just in defeat to Soldado but as being of any significance inside of this thing that we do.
I didn’t just walk into Action Wrestling. I burst it’s doors open and I burst in with a message.
I’m not just here in Action Wresting but I have something to give, add, and I’m going to be a name in this business.
I rode that door bursting moment to a three win steak to start my career.
Ten days.
That’s all that it took for Reo Raijin to be labeled just another guy that couldn’t live up to the hype.
I’m sitting on top of a two loss streak and all momentum lost and those words of J.C. Keeton ring true.
That’s a hard truth to swallow.
It was a vendetta, a blood feud, that wouldn’t just end with some nasty words and a match or two within the ring. It’s what both of our careers have eluded too. A never ending war between two individuals. Now, it means nothing to either of us. Me a failure and him having failed to even acknowledge the guy that came to Action Wrestling just because of him.
Is that still a thing? Is that still justifiable after losing all momentum and headed in the wrong direction of that win and loss record?
I’m AW’s pest that simply just watches Keeton wrestle, like any other fan, I’m a spectator.
I don’t know where this leaves me now. I don’t know the reason I’m even around at this point. It all seems worthless and like I’m just another guy wishing to catch on for fifteen minutes of fame to talk about for the next twenty years.
I’m not that guy.
I’d rather just simply walk away into the unknown to be forgotten then remember as a failure in AW.
In this moment I don’t know what any of this means for Reo Raijin. I don’t know where I’m headed or even why it’s worth trying. Maybe I’m not even worth the paper that my signature was signed too.
On this day of all days.
I have nothing to be thankful for. It’s me. Alone. Sitting in this place listening to noises in the background. Thinking about my life and the moments I thought had meaning only to realize that they were hopes of a future that may never come.
Maybe it sounds like I’m giving up and maybe I am…
It’s been a fun ride thus far but in this moment… Its not fun…
I guess tomorrow we’ll see where Reo Raijin stands and what that means to both himself and Action Wrestling.
He looks down the alley that runs along the back of the arena. He doesn’t see anybody. It’s just him.
Back in street clothes but still wearing the mask. He breaks his only rule.
In a moment of self doubt he pulls at those strings which hold him together, the mask.
Slowly, he pulls it away from his face and holds it within his hands. Questioning.
His fingers tighten, grasping, into a fist of frustrations.
“Are you okay?”
The man known by a mask and a made up name stands to his feet and looks towards the direction of the unknown voice.
“No.”
He replies holding his dream within his hands.
“I don’t think I am.”
He then turns to walk away from the stranger and from Action Wrestling.
Distracted by his frustrations of himself and a loathing spirit upon his thoughts he doesn’t notice the hand that reaches out and touches his shoulder. Stopping him in his tracks both physically and mentally.
“Let me help….”
The voice that carries compassion and symphony within it’s tone and it reaches out and touches his thoughts as well as his body.
He looks down still holding onto his mask and slowly turns around in that moment with nothing to hide. He looks up and meets this stranger for the first time really noticing someone else other than himself and a vendetta. As he meets that voice his grasp of the mask loosens until he’s barely hanging on to that side of is life.
His thoughts and words evade him and he stands there without anything to say in that moment.
He lifts his hand slowly bringing his mask to attention. That comforting hand wraps around his; closing his grip upon that which he considered his identity.
“You keep that…”
His vision blurry from the tears that form in the corner of his eyes as he falls into this stranger as she wraps her arms around him keeping him from falling apart.
There the two strangers stand arm in arm in a moment that we’ve all come to understand as compassion. It’s a moment we’ve all needed, craved, and at times have been left without.
Sometimes that moment makes us stronger and sometimes it can break us and rip us a part.
Lissie Hope lays in a hospital bed because when she needed it most she was alone at least in her own thoughts. People lose their lives over less and some just don’t have the understanding to have that compassion.
Feeling hopeless. It happens to the best of us at times. Its not shameful. Its not an embarrassment. It’s life and sometimes that means hanging on by a thread.