Serenity I: ƃuᴉɯoɔǝq lissie
Mar 28, 2021 22:18:09 GMT -5
Carter Shaw, Ash Blake, and 1 more like this
Post by Lissie Hope on Mar 28, 2021 22:18:09 GMT -5
*****
pǝǝu noʎ ʇɐɥʍ ǝʞɐʇ you don’t need me
“You speak to my soul, Father.”
He sat behind a curtain, his silhouette appeared statuesque. Enormous. It was probably a product of cunning, shrewd lighting - being the leader of the congregation, he needed to project an image of power and leadership. The oakwood cubicle flooded with the aroma of burning incense, the cascading smoke of lemongrass tickled my nostrils.
“What continues to push you forward?”
I didn’t know how to answer. I wasn’t sure what he knew, what he believed, and how he thought he could help.
“You’re still a new parishioner in our church, having been recommended to us - is that right?”
“I’d heard incredible things about your synagogue.”
“So I’ll ask you again - what is pushing you forward?”
“Serenity.”
“What do you mean?”
With tears in my eyes, I softly recited the prayer.
“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can…”
I trailed off as my voice cracked.
“And wisdom to know the difference.”
“It means so much to me.”
“It can be the only thing that keeps you afloat. You’ve made it an indelible mantra of your recovery. You first learned it in your meetings, yes?”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me.
“Your eyes are glued on what could eventually become, Elisabeth. But your priorities have shifted. I can tell.”
“I always wanted to be the best.”
“What changed?”
“Me.”
I thought back to all of my accomplishments in two short years, but how they’ve left me run ragged in the meantime.
“I allowed my pursuit of greatness to hinder my growth as a person. I latched onto what other’s thought of me, and my reputation. That stunted my maturity, and I found self-destructive ways to cope with my emotions. I’ve been weak, Father. And I hope God can forgive me.”
“Your addictions don’t define you. Your promiscuity isn’t irreparable. What do you want, Elisabeth?”
“I want to be loved. I want to be appreciated.”
“It’s important for you to love yourself first.”
The scars hadn’t faded completely. Even under the dim bulb of the confessional, I could still trace the lines on my wrists - they were easy to identify since they weren’t easy to conceal. But the hidden ones - on my abdomen, on my calf, on my left chest - I cried every time I looked at them in the mirror.
“That’s a hard thing to ask of someone like me.”
“Why do you hurt this badly?”
“I don’t have much to offer anyone,” I said, quietly. My voice hushed to a whisper. “Much less, him.”
He sighed, audibly, and I was tempted to walk out. He was obviously losing patience with me.
“I should go. I’ve worn out my welcome. I’m sorry, Father, I’ll leave you be.”
I stood up, holstering my hand bag.
“Sit,” he ordered, and I couldn't object. Or maybe I wanted him to continue, I don’t know. “You seek the unattainable. You set your sights on things you cannot have, and when you fail to get them, you determine that it’s a negative reflection of yourself. And that’s where you’re wrong, Elisabeth.”
I slithered back into the wooden pew.
“The man you love has a family. Once you can acknowledge that reality, that no matter what you did, no matter the utopian alternative life he thought you could provide - it wasn’t in the cards for you. And only then can you learn to accept the things you cannot change.”
Howard loves Sarah.
Howard loves Joey.
Howard doesn’t love me.
“You strived to be the best, and there were times when you stood above all and declared yourself the best. It was unprecedented, and it was absolute. It was your professional destiny, a fate guided by the hand of God--”
I remembered all the mythological symbolism. How I always rose to the occasion in the city of Las Vegas. How Robbie always knew the things to say on the eve of my biggest matches, and his motivation feeding my will to succeed. And the most inexplicable of all, 11:11.
“--but in your quest for excellence, you lost sight of your identity. Of what made you, you. You were living your life upon the acceptance of others, desperately seeking validation and affirmation. You could never be proud of your own achievements, because in your mind, you owed them to someone else. You’ve always been defined by your perception to others, and you’ve absorbed the values of the man--
“--or woman--”
“--who gives you hope. You’ve never learned to love yourself.”
“I can learn. I want to.”
“I know you do. I can hear it in your voice. But you’ve got to forgive yourself before you can ask for forgiveness from God. There’s more to faith than just showing up here every Sunday.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Father.”
“We all have. But that’s why God gives us the courage to change the things we can.”
“Where did you come from?” I asked, softly, not truly expecting an answer. He chuckled, though.
“You can change your life around, Elisabeth. And I think you’re taking the steps to correct yourself, to make amends, to live with purity and grace and set a good example beyond the ring.”
“A lot of people hate me now…”
“You’re a tragic hero, Elisabeth. When you write a book about your life down the road, I hope you can call upon the lessons you’ve learned here in the church.”
“I forgot about how much I needed this.”
“Sometimes, you have to wrestle with the worst demons to realize that you can defeat them. Your past isn’t damnation; it’s the impetus for your betterment. You’re on the right path, and it’s not too late. Become Lissie.
*****
ǝƃuɐɥɔ our old ways
ǝƃuɐɥɔ our old ways
Howard.
You’ve changed me.
Love has always eluded me; I’m mostly to blame for that. I recognize it now. I’ve come to terms with the fact that everything that's ever happened to me, every time something has rocked my foundation, it’s been a product of my own doing. It’s never unpredictable happenstance, or even simply an error in judgment. I’m a magnet to self-destruction.
It’s a prophecy that, to this point, I’ve been incapable of shaking.
I’ve never been able to put it all together. I’ve reached the pinnacle and it was the lousiest I’ve ever felt. I stood above the clouds, twice wearing the Action Wrestling World Championship. The ultimate professional goal, the greatest achievement. And I never felt emptier.
I thought a runner-up in Havoc would propel me skyward, and it only led me into the arms of a doomed tag team partnership fortified on a lie. A sleepless, six-month headache in the midst of personal tragedy and turmoil, a downward spiral that nearly led me to eternal rest.
Do you want to know when I’ve been the happiest?
The closest I’ve ever felt to being complete?
It was with you, Howard.
You burst through the walls I erected, barreling straight through towards my guarded heart. I was removed from the pressure that crippled me too many times; you never asked me to be better. To do better. You didn’t demand that I meet your expectations. You only asked me to be me.
Lissie.
Thank you, Howard. You’ve given me a new perspective, helped me restore my faith in God, encouraged me to look deep within myself and own my worth. Learn to love the future Lissie that I can’t fucking wait to meet. I would’ve never gotten to this point without you.
But it wasn’t only you.
I might owe you my gratitude, Howard.
But I owe Philidor Holdings my life.
*****
ɹǝʌoɔǝɹ ᴉ ɟᴉ puɐ will you be my comfort?
*****
ǝƃuɐɥɔ or part ways
Howard.
You’ve changed.
*****
ɹǝʌoɔǝɹ ᴉ ɟᴉ puɐ will you be my comfort?
I woke in a daze tangled in Howard’s oversized sweatshirt. The rays from the television left on overnight luminated his face, and I reached over for the remote, turning the volume down. I carefully slid off the couch, making sure I didn’t wake him. Fidgeting with the sweater, I removed each of my long limbs and pulled it over my head, keeping it close to my nostrils for an extra second.
I had just poured my heart out to him.
He let me down gently, but it still hurt all the same.
It was nearing three in the morning. The second half of the night in Las Vegas was just about to begin. I miss those nights sometimes; the sensory overload of the drugs and the bottomless drinks and the uninhibited sex. There was something about Vegas that always kept me on my toes. The city of sin, and seduction, and temptation. Vegas was the forbidden apple, and goddamn I still wanted to take a bite sometimes.
Especially now.
I passed the wastebasket at the foot of the end-table and noticed the bottle of discarded Wild Turkey. This is what I tasted on Howard’s lips.
How I wanted that taste to linger forever.
What if this was the closest I’d ever come?
What if this was my only chance?
What if this can be my only comfort?
Shutting the door quietly behind me, I scrolled over to my last sent text message, asking Olive Adler what room Howard was in. And then, I sent another.
I had just poured my heart out to him.
He let me down gently, but it still hurt all the same.
It was nearing three in the morning. The second half of the night in Las Vegas was just about to begin. I miss those nights sometimes; the sensory overload of the drugs and the bottomless drinks and the uninhibited sex. There was something about Vegas that always kept me on my toes. The city of sin, and seduction, and temptation. Vegas was the forbidden apple, and goddamn I still wanted to take a bite sometimes.
Especially now.
I passed the wastebasket at the foot of the end-table and noticed the bottle of discarded Wild Turkey. This is what I tasted on Howard’s lips.
How I wanted that taste to linger forever.
What if this was the closest I’d ever come?
What if this was my only chance?
What if this can be my only comfort?
Shutting the door quietly behind me, I scrolled over to my last sent text message, asking Olive Adler what room Howard was in. And then, I sent another.
Do you know where Spencer is staying?
*****
ǝƃuɐɥɔ or part ways
Howard.
You’ve changed.
It breaks my heart to have these visions of what could have been - and I’m not speaking as some jilted ex-lover or perpetual sad girl who couldn’t snag the guy. But in the abstract, we could have been something beautiful. We could’ve changed the entire mold of Action Wrestling, thread by thread. You could have called it a career by my side, because damn, we really showed a chemistry and a togetherness that is hard to find these days.
You might not believe me, Howie, but I was willing.
I was willing to hold in my feelings, the ones you made me develop, because I wanted the best for you, Howie. I wanted you to have the same level of camaraderie and protection that I’m enjoying these days. I wanted you to share a ring with me against all oncomers. I wanted to win the Tag Team Championships with you.
What could have been, right?
Everyone is going to jump on that you steered clear of the loose cannon who absorbs the personality and lives for the validation of every man who shows me the slightest bit of affection. But this goes beyond that, Howard. You don’t need me to feed your machismo, this misogynist ego that you may’ve done a great job at hiding till this point, but that’s bubbling under the surface.
You taking my fall from grace to heart to this level, to where you’d be almost willing to sacrifice and jeopardize the oaths you’ve promised - it wasn’t some act of divine benevolence. It’s time you be honest with yourself, Howard.
You have a savior complex.
You thought I needed you.
Hell, there was a point when I thought I needed you, too.
But you’ve made your choice. We extended the invitation to you, we wanted you under our net - hell, I wanted you under my spell - but now I have no other choice but to cut the cord.
It’s going to hurt, Howard, because we could have been special.
I know what I have to do.
*****
uɐǝlɔ ǝɯoɔ llᴉʍ ᴉ everyone knows it’s me
*****
uɐǝlɔ ǝɯoɔ llᴉʍ ᴉ everyone knows it’s me
| THREE SUNDAYS AGO |
Father Angelo stood on the pulpit, speaking to the congregation.
“We think back to Genesis, when Adam and Eve found the forbidden fruit alluring and seductive, and the serpent crept over their shoulders and invited them to defy His orders. We think of our own temptations, and how we find them irresistible. It can be as simple as a decision to give up chocolate, but on the table sits a decadent cake, rich and moist and calling towards every weakness in your heart. You have the power to reject it, to maintain control of your will and your promises, but you just want to have that taste, don’t you? Just a little taste. Slide your finger into the frosting and give it a lick -- that won’t hurt anybody, will it? Nobody will know!
Every member of the church thought back to their own anecdotes of a seemingly harmless occurrence of bending the rules. Of succumbing to temptation.
He knows. And in your heart, you know it, too. Your secrets are very hard to conceal when your eyes reveal the shame and weakness you’ve burdened yourself with. Did you make a new year’s resolution? Did you give up a vice for lent? You owe it to yourself, and you owe it to God, not to cheat. I can see some doubt in your eyes. ‘But Pastor Chris, it’s so trivial! I live my life by the Word, what’s one little piece of chocolate cake!’ You’ll come to find that it’s everything. Because if you’re willing to submit to these temptations for things that don’t matter, what happens when you’re corrupted by something that does?
That quieted the room.
Have you ever found yourself the temptress?
I felt like his eyes darted in my direction.
What if you found yourself in a precarious situation where you became the object of one’s desire? If that man, or woman, had no business desiring you, because of a host of circumstances - marriage, parenthood, celibacy. Could you live with yourself if you found that they broke their promise to God and to their family on account of you? How trivial would that be now?
There was a sound of consternation in his voice now. Distressed. As if he experienced it first-hand. At that moment, I wanted to disappear.
Don’t bite the apple. And don’t be the apple. The devil wants to corrupt you, and make you complicit in these bad decisions. But the devil wants you to betray your promises and your oaths and your values. The devil wants to control you, and basks when you live sinfully. But sins cause us to do the unthinkable!
He spoke with a vigor, each sentence followed by clapping and hallelujahs and Amen’s.
Hell is jubilant when we taste the forbidden fruit, knowing that we must pay for our transgressions!
But heaven rejoices when we seek forgiveness, when we taste salvation because He knows that we are living virtuously!
So I challenge you today to make those right choices!
I ask you today to rid yourself of those demons that control you!
Why don’t we make Heaven rejoice one more time this morning… and start your new life today!?
*****
ɹǝʌo ǝq uɐɔ ʇᴉ we can just leave it here
ɹǝʌo ǝq uɐɔ ʇᴉ we can just leave it here
I’ve made my choice Howard, but so did you.
You aren’t an innocent bystander in all this. You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew that you were opening up my wounds so you could suture them shut yourself. What did it mean to you, though? What did you get out of it?
Temporary reprieve from your own responsibilities?
Another excuse to stay away longer than you promised her?
I’m not going to sit here and pass judgement, Howie. I’ve seen the looks you’re getting in the hallways. I hear the chatter from the cynics. Being in the midst of this gossip mill has left me privy to all of the sanctimonious, self-righteous criticisms of your behavior.
You’re not blameless, but neither am I.
I accept it. My role, my responsibilities. I was someone who sought a savior, and you were more than willing to oblige.
Until it came time to choose a side, that is. Then you tucked your tail and accepted your punishment.
I hated seeing it. I know that’s hard to believe. I know many are going to say I’m the villain, the huntress, conspiring to bring the hero down into the gutter with her. But you were complicit. We both were. I was your forbidden apple, and unbeknownst to you, you still took that bite.
Unfortunately for you, you may have done irreparable harm to your marriage.
And you may have just signed your own death warrant.
I don’t want to put you down, Howie. But this is my expectation. This is my obligation. This is how I prove my loyalty.
And I’m okay with it.
Philidor saved my life.
Not you.
You may not believe me, Howard.
But I’m sorry.
*****
ʎɯǝuǝ ɹno⅄ ʍouʞ become your enemy
*****
ʎɯǝuǝ ɹno⅄ ʍouʞ become your enemy
“Do you understand why this has to happen?”
I nodded my head ‘yes’, watching Ash’s steely expression as she sat across the table from me. Samson Saltair silently hovered in the room, a menacing scowl on his face. We had just discussed a plan of action, combing through all of the possibilities of this forthcoming match with Howard Black.
“I accept the things I cannot change.”
I was in a trance. Completely expressionless. I was reciting the Serenity prayer in my head for days, finding it relatable to so many different aspects in my life. This match with Howard was a necessity, not just because he had decided to reject our/my advances, but because it would be beneficial to my desire to prove that I was 100-percent devoted to Philidor Holdings. If I had to separate myself from the people who care about me, then that was a sacrifice I was willing to make. No longer could I take a bite of the apple without consequence.
“Running to Spencer was a mistake. You know that, right?”
I nodded in shame.
"It was dumb. I don't know what I was thinking."
"It was dumb. I don't know what I was thinking."
“We're going to reschedule your Initiation,” Ash told me, and it hit me like a brick. But I understood why.
“I accept the things I cannot change.”
Ash grinned, confident and pleased with my answer. Saltair remained silent.
"Put him down, Lissie."
“I accept the things I cannot change.”
Ash grinned, confident and pleased with my answer. Saltair remained silent.
"Put him down, Lissie."