Post by Howard Black on Mar 26, 2021 12:54:32 GMT -5
3/21/21
Howard’s hands came to her shoulder, gripping them gently but firmly enough to remove her mouth from his.
Howard Black: What are you doing?
His voice was incredulous and his expression shocked. Lissie didn’t seem to mind (or notice) as she raised a finger to his lips, walking them into the room. Her eyes radiated affection, and her voice was low and husky. She beamed, his face aglow and happy.
Lissie Hope: It’s okay, Howie, you don’t have to be the gentleman anymore. Just follow my lead.
She closed her eyes and leaned in again. This time, Howard’s arms locked and his grip remained firm, the young woman’s face inches from his – but a gap she’d not be able to clear on her own. Howard’s voice was low and trembling.
Howard Black: Lissie, I have a family – a wife, a son.
She canted her head to the side, a look of shallow confusion flickering behind dimming enthusiasm. For a moment, her smile turned downward.
Lissie Hope: Yeah, but I… I thought…
Her eyes left his face, drifting unsteadily into space. A second wind of conviction overcome the young woman as she looked back up and smiled again, her voice once more low and giggly like a school girl with a secret.
Lissie Hope: That’s getting taken care of soon, isn’t it?
Her third attempt to move in brought her lips grazing his neck before Howard removed her. Their eyes stayed locked as they stood in the doorframe of Howard’s Sahara hotel room. All of the joy and confidence – that glow of infatuation and happiness – drained from Lissie’s face. Her hands slid from his shoulders and down his chest – an unintentional caress of gradual surrender.
Lissie Hope: But… but, it felt good, didn’t it? It isn’t just me – everyone else – that guy at the coffee shop… it was all so right. Didn’t you want this – me? I just don’t…
Howard Black: Lissie…
His stomach was a rock, his body feeling tense and sick. His eyes naturally trended downward, and it felt like his greatest feat of strength to maintain eye contact with the woman before him. His voice trembled, and his insides ached.
Howard Black: You’re an incredible… wonderful… and beautiful woman. And any man would be lucky to find himself in your favor. I/m lucky.
He paused, his eyes too heavy under the weight of his shame to stay level with hers any longer.
Howard Black: That’s not what this was supposed to be about. You have your recovery – your return – your rise. And I’m so proud of you; I think you’re strong. And inspiring. The support and reception you have is so incredible. I’ve just wanted to be here to be that support for you. And as much as a weaker part of me could be tempted to run off into a second career renaissance, what would that tell you? How could I be your support when I can’t even support myself or my own demons? And it’s not just that, Lissie. It’s not even about wants or needs because… well…
He let out a long exhale, his head tilting up to once again match her gaze. He needed to look her in the eyes.
Howard Black: I love Sarah. And I love Joey. I love my family, even if I’ve been the worst husband and father in the world for the past half year. I need to keep them. And I want to, too.
There they stood in the hotel room door frame, the silence thick and palpable. Their eyes were unwavering.
Lissie’s hands slid from Howard’s chest and retreated to her body, wrapping around her torso as if nursing a wound. Her head fell and her lips parted to a two soft words as a tear slid down her cheek.
Lissie Hope: Oh no…
A second tear followed by a third left the corners of her eyes and her hands rose to her face. She covered herself in vain, the mask of anguish inconcealable.
Lissie Hope: Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid – I always do this. I’m so sorry, Howie – so fucking sorry – I’m just –
And then the levee broke and Lissie’s words were swept up in the torrent of sobs that wracked her body. Howard moved without thinking. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her in for a close embrace. The door to the room swung closed behind them, and they stood there in the room’s entryway with Lissie sobbing into his chest for what seemed like forever. His hand stroked her hair as he rocked her back and forth. He’d had enough years of calming tears to know what he needed to do.
He took his time and allowed Lissie to do the same. When it seemed like she was done crying, he crossed to his suitcase for his tip-up sweater and the bottle of Wild Turkey.
Yes, Lissie?
What’s it like?
What’s ‘what’ like?
What’s it like to be married?
Twenty Minutes Earlier
The phone rang three times – three long, drawn out digital buzzes – before Howard heard the click at the other end. There was a pause indicating he hadn’t gone to voicemail; the low, drowsy groan of a rousing voice greeted him, and another pause followed before the tired but familiar voice of Sarah Black came through the receiver.
Sarah Black: Hello, Howie.
The familiar voice hit him like lightning. His throat felt tight.
Howard Black: H-hey, Sarah.
There was a pause. Her breathing was steady and audible over the phone.
Sarah Black: It’s been a while.
Howard Black: Yeah. It has.
Sarah Black: A few months now.
Howard Black: I…
He hesitated. And for a moment, he knew that he could still run. He could hang up. He could sign the contract tomorrow night. He could begin his new life.
Howard Black: …I know. I should’ve never let it go this far. That’s why I’m calling you.
Sarah Black: Are you talking about the career or this girl?
It was like hot poison dripping down his throat and into his stomach. His chest felt tight.
Howard Black: I know what that looks like, but Sarah, I –
He hesitated again.
Howard Black: It’s not what it looks like. I love you. I love Joey. I would never trade you – either of you – for anything.
The line was quiet. Howard felt his heart beat in his head.
Sarah Black: I’ve got a lot of things I could say to you, none of which I feel like saying at 11 pm, but I’ll give you this: you’ve been a lot of things, but I don’t think you’ve been an adulterer.
Howard Black: You don’t?
Sarah Black: No. I think you’ve been a coward, but that’s also why I think you wouldn’t be texting Joey every day if you were running off from us.
Howard Black: He tells you about that?
Sarah Black: He’s thirteen – he tells me everything. I don’t think you’d be able to face him either if you were gonna tear the family apart. That said…
Sarah’s voice was oddly serene – she’d always been even-tempered. But when it returned after the pause, the first blush of admonishment ran through her words.
Sarah Black: …what the hell are you doing with that poor girl, Howard?
His voice quickened, hasty and chaotic.
Howard Black: She’s in recovery – she needs friendship and support. I promise you – promise you – that’s all it is on my end.
Sarah Black: But what about on her end?
There was a pause between them. This one much longer than the others.
Sarah Black: I know women. I am one. You’re playing with that girl’s emotions.
Howard Black: I have never – never – crossed a line.
Sarah Black: You’re being naïve. She’s young and fragile.
Another silence hung between them.
Howard Black: I just need to help her get away from these people.
Sarah sighed, long and heavy.
Sarah Black: Howie, Howie, Howie… That's not your responsibility. You can’t save some people. You have to let them figure it out on their own; you could end up doing more harm than good.
Dandy DiVito flashed through Howie’s mind. So did Spencer Adams. So did Stuart Slane.
Howard Black: I’m retiring at Evolution. I want to come home. To Joey – to you. I know I’ve fucked up. I know I’ve done wrong. I’ve been blind, selfish, stupid. But I don’t want this. I want you.
Sarah sighed again.
Sarah Black: I stand by what I said: I can’t handle you around here until it’s all over.
Howard Black: And when it’s over?
Sarah Black: If it’s over…
A pause.
Sarah Black: …I haven’t changed the locks yet. That could change after June, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Howard Black: Okay. That’s fair. I’ll let you get back to sleep, I’m sure you’ve got an early shift tomorrow.
Sarah Black: Thank you, I do.
Howard Black: No, thank you for answering…
He readied himself. His voice was still small.
Howard Black: I love you, Sarah.
The line was quiet for a moment.
Sarah Black: Good night, Howie.
There’s this Neil Young song I think about a lot. Kurt Cobain quoted it in his suicide note. The line goes, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” Have you heard the song, Lissie? I know you’re a music lover.
I think about that line – that whole song – a lot. It’s clearly a well written line; it seems to get stuck in everyone’s head. But I think of it when I think about myself in the ring, both before and now as I go through the final months of the longest year of my life. It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? Standing under these lights, hearing the music hit, the roar of the crowd good or bad. But it’s lonely, too – isn’t it? You spend months on end putting miles on your car and sleeping between unfamiliar sheets in unfamiliar cities. You try to find ways to stave off the loneliness: some find it in the bottom of a bottle, others in the bottom of a coffee cup. At times I’m jealous of those who find love in this business; it’s probably more romantic when you’re spanning the globe hand-in-hand with a lover.
But I found friends, and that used to help. I miss them, Kaz and Crow. Until I found you. Then it wasn’t so bad anymore. I found more than mere companionship – I found that kindred soul whom I could spend countless hours with; could confide in; could find strength in. But our paths are simply going different ways, and they rightfully have to. I think we can open our eyes, be truthful with ourselves, and know nothing good could come of this. I shoulder the blame – I was the one who was naïve. I wanted my cake and to eat it. But we both did in more ways than one, didn’t we? We both soaked in the lifestyle until the roar of the crowd was so loud we couldn’t hear ourselves scream. Sometimes the bulb gets too hot for the moth and it burns. So why do the moths continue to circle it?
You’re not the only addict in this ring – I think you’re probably the only one aware enough to begin recovery. I’ve tried to find strength in your journey, and that’s why I’m going to try the same. Our vices both mirror and contrast: I use the bottle to cope with my addiction to the ring, and you use the ring to cope with your addiction to the bottle. I’m proud of how you’ve kept clean. I’m proud of how you’ve resisted temptation. That’s why I should’ve never let you get to close to a soggy bum like me.
Between then and now? I don’t know. But I do know at Time Bomb it’s gonna be me and you. Whatever that means.
When I stepped in the ring with Dandy all those months back, something was going through my head. I’m not sure what had turned me or possessed me, but I got this idea in my head that a match could change things – that I could “save” people by kneeing them in the face or tapping them out. I look back on that and realize what a stupid and insane train of thought that was now. A match is a match – two people fight, and usually one wins. There’s no lesson learned or growth accomplished. It just is. So looking down the barrel of a loaded gun labeled Philidor Holdings, I don’t think I know where I’m supposed to be for this match.
I realize this match isn’t actually us having a match; this is about you sending a message by beating me. It’s tempting to simply lay down when that bell rings – let you do the deed and get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. But I wouldn’t insult you like that. I couldn’t patronize you or disrespect you – I think maybe I’ve done enough of that already.
There’s a phrase I popularized in my short career in this Industry, “Dark Knight Feeling”. It’s pretty simple: “You die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” You may’ve heard some people say it in relation to me, but it was a fair time before we met. It’s probably self-evident why I’m bringing this up, but I hope you’ll indulge me for a moment.
See, I’m starting to realize more and more how narrow this perspective of mine was. The phrase is a little fatalistic, don’t you think? A little too cynical? Maybe in January I’d have repeated it without an ounce of self-awareness, but as I sit here looking at the slowly approaching light of the tunnel, I can’t help but reject it. I know I’ve been the villain in this story – I don’t want it to be too late for me. It was you who inspired that in me. And while I just said there’s no lessons learned or taught in a ring, I want to get this one through your head.
I believe in Lissie Hope – the real Lissie Hope. Not the angry, scared girl who’d lash out in pettiness at those who’ve wronged her. Not the bitter, smirking cynic calling herself a Bad Guy. I believe in the strong, inspiring, spunky woman who won the Action Wrestling Championship. I believe in the young woman who has carried the weight of the world and all its sadness on her back and is still standing. And fuck what Dandy or Kemp or even Ash Blake ever have to say about you: you are a juggernaut in this business and would be with or without the corporate car.
You once asked me if I believe in God. And I told you I do. And that you are still with us today is proof to me there’s God. That our paths crossed and I had this time to spend with you is proof to me in God. I love you, Lissie – not as the lover you wanted but as the friend that I hope you needed. And if you want me to fight for your soul in that ring, I’ll do it for you.
You’re going to get Howard Black – the 2020 AW Wrestler of the Year – the Lost Boy – in his unblemished and truest form. I can’t go hard on you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy.
I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m so fucking sorry.
You’re not too late to stop yourself, Lissie. Not only do you not need to be a tragedy, I don’t want you to be a tragedy. I’m not sure if Carter can be redeemed. I don’t think Mud, Garvey, Ash, or Olive can be redeemed. I don’t even think He ever had redemption as an option. But not you. You haven’t fallen enough to even require redemption. All you have to do is stop falling.
Howard’s hands came to her shoulder, gripping them gently but firmly enough to remove her mouth from his.
Howard Black: What are you doing?
His voice was incredulous and his expression shocked. Lissie didn’t seem to mind (or notice) as she raised a finger to his lips, walking them into the room. Her eyes radiated affection, and her voice was low and husky. She beamed, his face aglow and happy.
Lissie Hope: It’s okay, Howie, you don’t have to be the gentleman anymore. Just follow my lead.
She closed her eyes and leaned in again. This time, Howard’s arms locked and his grip remained firm, the young woman’s face inches from his – but a gap she’d not be able to clear on her own. Howard’s voice was low and trembling.
Howard Black: Lissie, I have a family – a wife, a son.
She canted her head to the side, a look of shallow confusion flickering behind dimming enthusiasm. For a moment, her smile turned downward.
Lissie Hope: Yeah, but I… I thought…
Her eyes left his face, drifting unsteadily into space. A second wind of conviction overcome the young woman as she looked back up and smiled again, her voice once more low and giggly like a school girl with a secret.
Lissie Hope: That’s getting taken care of soon, isn’t it?
Her third attempt to move in brought her lips grazing his neck before Howard removed her. Their eyes stayed locked as they stood in the doorframe of Howard’s Sahara hotel room. All of the joy and confidence – that glow of infatuation and happiness – drained from Lissie’s face. Her hands slid from his shoulders and down his chest – an unintentional caress of gradual surrender.
Lissie Hope: But… but, it felt good, didn’t it? It isn’t just me – everyone else – that guy at the coffee shop… it was all so right. Didn’t you want this – me? I just don’t…
Howard Black: Lissie…
His stomach was a rock, his body feeling tense and sick. His eyes naturally trended downward, and it felt like his greatest feat of strength to maintain eye contact with the woman before him. His voice trembled, and his insides ached.
Howard Black: You’re an incredible… wonderful… and beautiful woman. And any man would be lucky to find himself in your favor. I/m lucky.
He paused, his eyes too heavy under the weight of his shame to stay level with hers any longer.
Howard Black: That’s not what this was supposed to be about. You have your recovery – your return – your rise. And I’m so proud of you; I think you’re strong. And inspiring. The support and reception you have is so incredible. I’ve just wanted to be here to be that support for you. And as much as a weaker part of me could be tempted to run off into a second career renaissance, what would that tell you? How could I be your support when I can’t even support myself or my own demons? And it’s not just that, Lissie. It’s not even about wants or needs because… well…
He let out a long exhale, his head tilting up to once again match her gaze. He needed to look her in the eyes.
Howard Black: I love Sarah. And I love Joey. I love my family, even if I’ve been the worst husband and father in the world for the past half year. I need to keep them. And I want to, too.
There they stood in the hotel room door frame, the silence thick and palpable. Their eyes were unwavering.
Could anyone casually passing by have believed just mere minutes ago a tableau seemingly taken from a romance movie had been playing out in this exact spot?
Lissie Hope: Oh no…
A second tear followed by a third left the corners of her eyes and her hands rose to her face. She covered herself in vain, the mask of anguish inconcealable.
Lissie Hope: Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid – I always do this. I’m so sorry, Howie – so fucking sorry – I’m just –
And then the levee broke and Lissie’s words were swept up in the torrent of sobs that wracked her body. Howard moved without thinking. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as he pulled her in for a close embrace. The door to the room swung closed behind them, and they stood there in the room’s entryway with Lissie sobbing into his chest for what seemed like forever. His hand stroked her hair as he rocked her back and forth. He’d had enough years of calming tears to know what he needed to do.
He took his time and allowed Lissie to do the same. When it seemed like she was done crying, he crossed to his suitcase for his tip-up sweater and the bottle of Wild Turkey.
The sweater he placed over Lissie’s shoulders to keep her warm as they spent the rest of the night together in silence watching TV.
The bottle of Wild Turkey he threw in the trash.
[Source] Lissie Hope said:
Howe?Yes, Lissie?
What’s it like?
What’s ‘what’ like?
What’s it like to be married?
Twenty Minutes Earlier
The phone rang three times – three long, drawn out digital buzzes – before Howard heard the click at the other end. There was a pause indicating he hadn’t gone to voicemail; the low, drowsy groan of a rousing voice greeted him, and another pause followed before the tired but familiar voice of Sarah Black came through the receiver.
Sarah Black: Hello, Howie.
The familiar voice hit him like lightning. His throat felt tight.
Howard Black: H-hey, Sarah.
There was a pause. Her breathing was steady and audible over the phone.
Sarah Black: It’s been a while.
Howard Black: Yeah. It has.
Sarah Black: A few months now.
Howard Black: I…
He hesitated. And for a moment, he knew that he could still run. He could hang up. He could sign the contract tomorrow night. He could begin his new life.
Howard Black: …I know. I should’ve never let it go this far. That’s why I’m calling you.
Sarah Black: Are you talking about the career or this girl?
It was like hot poison dripping down his throat and into his stomach. His chest felt tight.
Howard Black: I know what that looks like, but Sarah, I –
He hesitated again.
Howard Black: It’s not what it looks like. I love you. I love Joey. I would never trade you – either of you – for anything.
The line was quiet. Howard felt his heart beat in his head.
Sarah Black: I’ve got a lot of things I could say to you, none of which I feel like saying at 11 pm, but I’ll give you this: you’ve been a lot of things, but I don’t think you’ve been an adulterer.
Howard Black: You don’t?
Sarah Black: No. I think you’ve been a coward, but that’s also why I think you wouldn’t be texting Joey every day if you were running off from us.
Howard Black: He tells you about that?
Sarah Black: He’s thirteen – he tells me everything. I don’t think you’d be able to face him either if you were gonna tear the family apart. That said…
Sarah’s voice was oddly serene – she’d always been even-tempered. But when it returned after the pause, the first blush of admonishment ran through her words.
Sarah Black: …what the hell are you doing with that poor girl, Howard?
His voice quickened, hasty and chaotic.
Howard Black: She’s in recovery – she needs friendship and support. I promise you – promise you – that’s all it is on my end.
Sarah Black: But what about on her end?
There was a pause between them. This one much longer than the others.
Sarah Black: I know women. I am one. You’re playing with that girl’s emotions.
Howard Black: I have never – never – crossed a line.
Sarah Black: You’re being naïve. She’s young and fragile.
Another silence hung between them.
Howard Black: I just need to help her get away from these people.
Sarah sighed, long and heavy.
Sarah Black: Howie, Howie, Howie… That's not your responsibility. You can’t save some people. You have to let them figure it out on their own; you could end up doing more harm than good.
Dandy DiVito flashed through Howie’s mind. So did Spencer Adams. So did Stuart Slane.
Howard Black: I’m retiring at Evolution. I want to come home. To Joey – to you. I know I’ve fucked up. I know I’ve done wrong. I’ve been blind, selfish, stupid. But I don’t want this. I want you.
Sarah sighed again.
Sarah Black: I stand by what I said: I can’t handle you around here until it’s all over.
Howard Black: And when it’s over?
Sarah Black: If it’s over…
A pause.
Sarah Black: …I haven’t changed the locks yet. That could change after June, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Howard Black: Okay. That’s fair. I’ll let you get back to sleep, I’m sure you’ve got an early shift tomorrow.
Sarah Black: Thank you, I do.
Howard Black: No, thank you for answering…
He readied himself. His voice was still small.
Howard Black: I love you, Sarah.
The line was quiet for a moment.
Sarah Black: Good night, Howie.
[Source] Lissie Hope said:
Savannah and Lissie watched from the doorway as Britney leaned over the railing.
Look at this view…
Look at this view…
There’s this Neil Young song I think about a lot. Kurt Cobain quoted it in his suicide note. The line goes, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.” Have you heard the song, Lissie? I know you’re a music lover.
I think about that line – that whole song – a lot. It’s clearly a well written line; it seems to get stuck in everyone’s head. But I think of it when I think about myself in the ring, both before and now as I go through the final months of the longest year of my life. It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? Standing under these lights, hearing the music hit, the roar of the crowd good or bad. But it’s lonely, too – isn’t it? You spend months on end putting miles on your car and sleeping between unfamiliar sheets in unfamiliar cities. You try to find ways to stave off the loneliness: some find it in the bottom of a bottle, others in the bottom of a coffee cup. At times I’m jealous of those who find love in this business; it’s probably more romantic when you’re spanning the globe hand-in-hand with a lover.
But I found friends, and that used to help. I miss them, Kaz and Crow. Until I found you. Then it wasn’t so bad anymore. I found more than mere companionship – I found that kindred soul whom I could spend countless hours with; could confide in; could find strength in. But our paths are simply going different ways, and they rightfully have to. I think we can open our eyes, be truthful with ourselves, and know nothing good could come of this. I shoulder the blame – I was the one who was naïve. I wanted my cake and to eat it. But we both did in more ways than one, didn’t we? We both soaked in the lifestyle until the roar of the crowd was so loud we couldn’t hear ourselves scream. Sometimes the bulb gets too hot for the moth and it burns. So why do the moths continue to circle it?
What are we doing here, Lissie?
You’re not the only addict in this ring – I think you’re probably the only one aware enough to begin recovery. I’ve tried to find strength in your journey, and that’s why I’m going to try the same. Our vices both mirror and contrast: I use the bottle to cope with my addiction to the ring, and you use the ring to cope with your addiction to the bottle. I’m proud of how you’ve kept clean. I’m proud of how you’ve resisted temptation. That’s why I should’ve never let you get to close to a soggy bum like me.
And that’s why I’m gonna follow your example and hung up my boots at Evolution 4.
Between then and now? I don’t know. But I do know at Time Bomb it’s gonna be me and you. Whatever that means.
When I stepped in the ring with Dandy all those months back, something was going through my head. I’m not sure what had turned me or possessed me, but I got this idea in my head that a match could change things – that I could “save” people by kneeing them in the face or tapping them out. I look back on that and realize what a stupid and insane train of thought that was now. A match is a match – two people fight, and usually one wins. There’s no lesson learned or growth accomplished. It just is. So looking down the barrel of a loaded gun labeled Philidor Holdings, I don’t think I know where I’m supposed to be for this match.
I realize this match isn’t actually us having a match; this is about you sending a message by beating me. It’s tempting to simply lay down when that bell rings – let you do the deed and get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. But I wouldn’t insult you like that. I couldn’t patronize you or disrespect you – I think maybe I’ve done enough of that already.
There’s a phrase I popularized in my short career in this Industry, “Dark Knight Feeling”. It’s pretty simple: “You die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” You may’ve heard some people say it in relation to me, but it was a fair time before we met. It’s probably self-evident why I’m bringing this up, but I hope you’ll indulge me for a moment.
See, I’m starting to realize more and more how narrow this perspective of mine was. The phrase is a little fatalistic, don’t you think? A little too cynical? Maybe in January I’d have repeated it without an ounce of self-awareness, but as I sit here looking at the slowly approaching light of the tunnel, I can’t help but reject it. I know I’ve been the villain in this story – I don’t want it to be too late for me. It was you who inspired that in me. And while I just said there’s no lessons learned or taught in a ring, I want to get this one through your head.
There is a place in New York they called Tammany Hall. And it’s been the ruin of many of poor girl, and god, I hope you’re not one.
I believe in Lissie Hope – the real Lissie Hope. Not the angry, scared girl who’d lash out in pettiness at those who’ve wronged her. Not the bitter, smirking cynic calling herself a Bad Guy. I believe in the strong, inspiring, spunky woman who won the Action Wrestling Championship. I believe in the young woman who has carried the weight of the world and all its sadness on her back and is still standing. And fuck what Dandy or Kemp or even Ash Blake ever have to say about you: you are a juggernaut in this business and would be with or without the corporate car.
You once asked me if I believe in God. And I told you I do. And that you are still with us today is proof to me there’s God. That our paths crossed and I had this time to spend with you is proof to me in God. I love you, Lissie – not as the lover you wanted but as the friend that I hope you needed. And if you want me to fight for your soul in that ring, I’ll do it for you.
You’re going to get Howard Black – the 2020 AW Wrestler of the Year – the Lost Boy – in his unblemished and truest form. I can’t go hard on you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy.
I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m so fucking sorry.
You’re not too late to stop yourself, Lissie. Not only do you not need to be a tragedy, I don’t want you to be a tragedy. I’m not sure if Carter can be redeemed. I don’t think Mud, Garvey, Ash, or Olive can be redeemed. I don’t even think He ever had redemption as an option. But not you. You haven’t fallen enough to even require redemption. All you have to do is stop falling.