Post by Charlie Velez on Mar 9, 2011 21:21:12 GMT -6
They say a picture is worth a thousand words.
They say that a picture is just a perfect moment in time captured, only to look back at them years from now. Our pictures, the ones that we take tell something about us every time we look at them. What we’ve done, where we’ve been, the people we’ve spent time with…
The picture I hold in my hand is very precious to me.
It’s a picture of my wedding, I’m holding her in my arms…we’re both smiling, looking at each other and nothing else. I can see the love in our eyes, the way I’m holding on to her. I can see what I’m thinking, I remember it quite vividly. That I’d never let her go, no matter how hard things got…
She’s not here now. I’ve been home for three days, I’m here alone with my two sons. She won’t answer my phone calls, my text messages, nothing.
She seemed to have left me, because I refuse to give up my championship belt.
I remember back to the day I met, the nerdy kid in class guaking at the new girl. How beautiful she was then, and how she still is now. I remember our first date, our first kiss…
The first time we made love…
I remember going to one knee, and asking her to spend the rest of her life with me.
I remember our wedding day, and how a week before she lied in bed and kissed me, telling me this was the happiest she’s ever been. How she couldn’t wait to make a family with me, couldn’t wait to grow old together.
I remember holding her close, her tears soaking my shirt when she had a miscarriage.
I remember holding her close, her tears soaking my shirt when she gave birth to both of our sons.
I remember all those things, they’re stored deep in my mind, locked away in a vault with the key thrown away. Nobody can throw those memories away, can’t come in and steal them from me. They’re mine forever, and I’m so happy that I made them with her.
But the vibration of my phone interrupts me from continuing my thoughts. I jump, pounce to my phone to see who it is.
It’s her.
“Hello!?” I say, almost snapping my phone in half.
“Cha…Charlie..” she says, sounding weak, not her usual self. The strong, powerful woman I love this is not…
“Annette…” I try to hold in the tears, I hadn’t heard her voice in days, and while it’s not exactly the same, it still takes my breath away. “Where are you? Why haven’t you been answering my messages-“
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have anything to be sorry about babe, I don’t care that I lost, I don’t care, I just want to be together with you Annette-“
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get it back Charlie, I tried…”
“No, you have me back, you have the family back Annette, just come home, please just come home and we can be a family again-“
I’m interrupted by the dial tone. I slam the phone against the floor, and I start swinging again, but not in anger, no, not in anger. I’m in pain, things just don’t seem right anymore, my life…this isn’t how I pictured life to turn out.
This isn’t the promise I made to her a week before our wedding. This isn’t the vow I took in front of God himself, to love this woman, with all of my heart, to never leave her, even when the worst has occurred. I promised her that I will not hurt her, and all I’ve done is cause pain. All I’m left is with a championship belt, a belt that doesn’t love me like she loves me…
I’m just here with a picture full of lost promises.
“So let me get this straight…
The man who holds the belt doesn’t deserve respect? What, is it because everything I’ve said is true, and the truth hurts, right? Is it just because I’m a ‘cocky heel’ and I don’t listen to the fans’ needs, that I’m a bad guy? Why, because I don’t agree with either of you two, no matter how wrong or stupid you two are? Let me get this straight, Charlie Velez doesn’t deserve to be champion because, well…
Wait, none of you have really come up with a good reason yet, have you? You’re just jawing off at the mouth, discrediting my title win, my championship reign, my greatness that I’ve showed every time I’ve stepped into the ring while holding this belt. You guys say I don’t deserve this belt because well…I guess you have nothing clever to say, so you just make stuff up.
Alex, I’ll start with you first. You, one of my longest enemies, we seem to be crossing paths every time I step up the ladder. I step up, and you look up at me, with that evil stare, jealous of my accomplishments. Because that’s really what it is Alex, right? You’re jealous at my success, jealous at my fame, jealous that I’m in a position you want to be in more than anything in this world. Alex, come on man, really think hard when you think about why you hate me. You hate me because I’m cocky? Come on, there’s a bunch of cocky assholes around here, and while I might be the cream of the crop, I don’t even acknowledge you until your friends throw you in matches against me. You’re just a spec on the radar screen, not even in my line of sight. Hell, it’s not like I had sex with your wife and started raising your kids as my own…
Hell, you might just become my friend if I did anyway, and I can’t have friends like you. Bad for the image and all, you know?
‘Everyone’ believes that you’re the best in the World? What kool-aid are you drinking, Alex? Really, who says that? Who comes out and says that Alex Jones is the best wrestler in the world? Just because your little wife swapping fool of a friend throws you bones every once and a while doesn’t mean you deserve to get that ego growing. Let’s be honest Alex, let’s look at the facts really closely and examine who deserves to be in this position of World Champion.
I, Charlie Velez, debuted in this company a little more than a year ago. I’ve showed up every week, busting my ass, showing how much I deserve to be on the top. Instead of waiting around for people to give me a shot like you, I joined forces with familiar faces, and I rose to the top of this company. I was rewarded with a National title shot, and I won that belt. I defended that belt at every turn, and had the most impressive title run this company has seen in ages. I ran past the Road to the Gold tournament just to come short, but I worked hard, and while Zelda was nice enough to give me her title shot, I made it out of something. Remember, I lost that title shot, so this bitching and moaning about me taking Zelda’s shot means nothing. I didn’t win, I lost. But I kept working, and I earned my title shot, and then I finally won. I won my own title shot, Alex. I earned everything I’ve earned in this company. Since I’ve been here, you know what I’ve seen you do? I’ve seen you and Angel get into a pussy little war about some stupid crap that I didn’t pay attention to, then I saw you…for some reason, team up with Angel. You claimed it was a ‘mutual friendship’, but come on Alex, really? Even a blind man could see the lies, and could see that you were nothing but a phony. But you went along with Angel, won the Tag titles, lost them, Angel became commish, put you in a match against me…in a match that I never performed in and that you’ve competed in many times…and you won. Shocking. The odds were stacked against me and I couldn’t overcome them. Congrats.
Want a cookie?
Then you disappeared for a while, only to come back and demand a title shot. You see Alex, this is the story of your career. You have the wave of momentum coming towards you, it looks like Alex Jones might actually matter, but then the spotlight gets too bright, too hot that you begin to melt. You can’t handle it, and that’s why you’ve lost your chance at this title before. Not because you were ‘screwed’, but because you weren’t good enough. I lost, I shook it off and went for it again. And I won. That’s the difference between you and me Alex…
I’m a winner. You’re not. When it matters the most, you just come out short, just like you will this Sunday.
Then there’s Kyle…what left is there to say about you my sweet little bird? It seems like I’ve exhausted the nCw audience in talking about you so much recently that I’ve run out of ideas on how to insult your inability to beat me. What should I do, make a Zelda joke or something?
Nah, I’m not twelve years old. I’m about that stuff.
Lets talk about what you said though Kyle. You ‘hate’ me? Man Kyle, that’s harsh man. I mean, I really thought we had this great relationship working, something to tell our friends about, you know, maybe go out to dinner after our match this Sunday. But you ‘hate’ me more than anybody else you ever have in this company? Jesus Christ Kyle, I wish I could tell you the same…
But I don’t.
You see, ‘hate’ is a strong word. To hate you somebody you need to waste so much energy, you have to be thinking about the person so much, that you know it makes you sick to just do it. That when you hear somebody mention their name you just want to punch, you just want to hurt. I don’t feel that way about you Kyle, and you know why?
Because you don’t matter to me.
Kyle, it’s quite simple. I don’t think about you like you do about me. Because you’re nothing to me. You’re just like Alex Jones, a man who runs his mouth but can’t get a job done. You got lucky winning the Riot match, you got lucky not humiliating yourself when we faced off last month, but that’s it Kyle. You’re lucky. You were lucky to win a World championship, you were lucky that I wasn’t around when you won that belt. I would have squashed that dream faster than how I did last month, and you would have felt lost a lot longer before you met me. I’m your worse nightmare Kyle, I’m the beast that goes bump in the night, the monster in your closet, the reason why you can’t sleep at night.
I’m the constant reminder of what you could have been. A true champion, the best champion the world has ever seen. I’m you, Kyle…if you weren’t a failure. Everything you’re not is everything I am, the greatest in the world.
What do I have to do to teach you two a lesson? Just beat you both this Sunday at Crossroads. I just have to climb up the ladder, and retrieve what is mine, and that’s the World Heavyweight Championship. No talk about not ‘deserving’ this, no more discussion about how much we ‘hate’ each other. Nothing. Just a realization that everything I say is truth, everything I say is just things you don’t want to believe. This Sunday I’ll make you realize that I’m right, just
Thank Me Later.”
The words I never said hold more weight than the ones I’ve have…
While I told her I loved her, I’ve never told her how much I needed her, how without here Charlie Velez is nothing…how without her Charlie Velez ceases to exist.
This championship doesn’t mean as much as she does to me, even though I love that belt more than anything. Annette Velez is my life…
And without her I have no life.
I just have a bunch of pictures.
They say that a picture is just a perfect moment in time captured, only to look back at them years from now. Our pictures, the ones that we take tell something about us every time we look at them. What we’ve done, where we’ve been, the people we’ve spent time with…
The picture I hold in my hand is very precious to me.
It’s a picture of my wedding, I’m holding her in my arms…we’re both smiling, looking at each other and nothing else. I can see the love in our eyes, the way I’m holding on to her. I can see what I’m thinking, I remember it quite vividly. That I’d never let her go, no matter how hard things got…
She’s not here now. I’ve been home for three days, I’m here alone with my two sons. She won’t answer my phone calls, my text messages, nothing.
She seemed to have left me, because I refuse to give up my championship belt.
I remember back to the day I met, the nerdy kid in class guaking at the new girl. How beautiful she was then, and how she still is now. I remember our first date, our first kiss…
The first time we made love…
I remember going to one knee, and asking her to spend the rest of her life with me.
I remember our wedding day, and how a week before she lied in bed and kissed me, telling me this was the happiest she’s ever been. How she couldn’t wait to make a family with me, couldn’t wait to grow old together.
I remember holding her close, her tears soaking my shirt when she had a miscarriage.
I remember holding her close, her tears soaking my shirt when she gave birth to both of our sons.
I remember all those things, they’re stored deep in my mind, locked away in a vault with the key thrown away. Nobody can throw those memories away, can’t come in and steal them from me. They’re mine forever, and I’m so happy that I made them with her.
But the vibration of my phone interrupts me from continuing my thoughts. I jump, pounce to my phone to see who it is.
It’s her.
“Hello!?” I say, almost snapping my phone in half.
“Cha…Charlie..” she says, sounding weak, not her usual self. The strong, powerful woman I love this is not…
“Annette…” I try to hold in the tears, I hadn’t heard her voice in days, and while it’s not exactly the same, it still takes my breath away. “Where are you? Why haven’t you been answering my messages-“
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have anything to be sorry about babe, I don’t care that I lost, I don’t care, I just want to be together with you Annette-“
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get it back Charlie, I tried…”
“No, you have me back, you have the family back Annette, just come home, please just come home and we can be a family again-“
I’m interrupted by the dial tone. I slam the phone against the floor, and I start swinging again, but not in anger, no, not in anger. I’m in pain, things just don’t seem right anymore, my life…this isn’t how I pictured life to turn out.
This isn’t the promise I made to her a week before our wedding. This isn’t the vow I took in front of God himself, to love this woman, with all of my heart, to never leave her, even when the worst has occurred. I promised her that I will not hurt her, and all I’ve done is cause pain. All I’m left is with a championship belt, a belt that doesn’t love me like she loves me…
I’m just here with a picture full of lost promises.
“So let me get this straight…
The man who holds the belt doesn’t deserve respect? What, is it because everything I’ve said is true, and the truth hurts, right? Is it just because I’m a ‘cocky heel’ and I don’t listen to the fans’ needs, that I’m a bad guy? Why, because I don’t agree with either of you two, no matter how wrong or stupid you two are? Let me get this straight, Charlie Velez doesn’t deserve to be champion because, well…
Wait, none of you have really come up with a good reason yet, have you? You’re just jawing off at the mouth, discrediting my title win, my championship reign, my greatness that I’ve showed every time I’ve stepped into the ring while holding this belt. You guys say I don’t deserve this belt because well…I guess you have nothing clever to say, so you just make stuff up.
Alex, I’ll start with you first. You, one of my longest enemies, we seem to be crossing paths every time I step up the ladder. I step up, and you look up at me, with that evil stare, jealous of my accomplishments. Because that’s really what it is Alex, right? You’re jealous at my success, jealous at my fame, jealous that I’m in a position you want to be in more than anything in this world. Alex, come on man, really think hard when you think about why you hate me. You hate me because I’m cocky? Come on, there’s a bunch of cocky assholes around here, and while I might be the cream of the crop, I don’t even acknowledge you until your friends throw you in matches against me. You’re just a spec on the radar screen, not even in my line of sight. Hell, it’s not like I had sex with your wife and started raising your kids as my own…
Hell, you might just become my friend if I did anyway, and I can’t have friends like you. Bad for the image and all, you know?
‘Everyone’ believes that you’re the best in the World? What kool-aid are you drinking, Alex? Really, who says that? Who comes out and says that Alex Jones is the best wrestler in the world? Just because your little wife swapping fool of a friend throws you bones every once and a while doesn’t mean you deserve to get that ego growing. Let’s be honest Alex, let’s look at the facts really closely and examine who deserves to be in this position of World Champion.
I, Charlie Velez, debuted in this company a little more than a year ago. I’ve showed up every week, busting my ass, showing how much I deserve to be on the top. Instead of waiting around for people to give me a shot like you, I joined forces with familiar faces, and I rose to the top of this company. I was rewarded with a National title shot, and I won that belt. I defended that belt at every turn, and had the most impressive title run this company has seen in ages. I ran past the Road to the Gold tournament just to come short, but I worked hard, and while Zelda was nice enough to give me her title shot, I made it out of something. Remember, I lost that title shot, so this bitching and moaning about me taking Zelda’s shot means nothing. I didn’t win, I lost. But I kept working, and I earned my title shot, and then I finally won. I won my own title shot, Alex. I earned everything I’ve earned in this company. Since I’ve been here, you know what I’ve seen you do? I’ve seen you and Angel get into a pussy little war about some stupid crap that I didn’t pay attention to, then I saw you…for some reason, team up with Angel. You claimed it was a ‘mutual friendship’, but come on Alex, really? Even a blind man could see the lies, and could see that you were nothing but a phony. But you went along with Angel, won the Tag titles, lost them, Angel became commish, put you in a match against me…in a match that I never performed in and that you’ve competed in many times…and you won. Shocking. The odds were stacked against me and I couldn’t overcome them. Congrats.
Want a cookie?
Then you disappeared for a while, only to come back and demand a title shot. You see Alex, this is the story of your career. You have the wave of momentum coming towards you, it looks like Alex Jones might actually matter, but then the spotlight gets too bright, too hot that you begin to melt. You can’t handle it, and that’s why you’ve lost your chance at this title before. Not because you were ‘screwed’, but because you weren’t good enough. I lost, I shook it off and went for it again. And I won. That’s the difference between you and me Alex…
I’m a winner. You’re not. When it matters the most, you just come out short, just like you will this Sunday.
Then there’s Kyle…what left is there to say about you my sweet little bird? It seems like I’ve exhausted the nCw audience in talking about you so much recently that I’ve run out of ideas on how to insult your inability to beat me. What should I do, make a Zelda joke or something?
Nah, I’m not twelve years old. I’m about that stuff.
Lets talk about what you said though Kyle. You ‘hate’ me? Man Kyle, that’s harsh man. I mean, I really thought we had this great relationship working, something to tell our friends about, you know, maybe go out to dinner after our match this Sunday. But you ‘hate’ me more than anybody else you ever have in this company? Jesus Christ Kyle, I wish I could tell you the same…
But I don’t.
You see, ‘hate’ is a strong word. To hate you somebody you need to waste so much energy, you have to be thinking about the person so much, that you know it makes you sick to just do it. That when you hear somebody mention their name you just want to punch, you just want to hurt. I don’t feel that way about you Kyle, and you know why?
Because you don’t matter to me.
Kyle, it’s quite simple. I don’t think about you like you do about me. Because you’re nothing to me. You’re just like Alex Jones, a man who runs his mouth but can’t get a job done. You got lucky winning the Riot match, you got lucky not humiliating yourself when we faced off last month, but that’s it Kyle. You’re lucky. You were lucky to win a World championship, you were lucky that I wasn’t around when you won that belt. I would have squashed that dream faster than how I did last month, and you would have felt lost a lot longer before you met me. I’m your worse nightmare Kyle, I’m the beast that goes bump in the night, the monster in your closet, the reason why you can’t sleep at night.
I’m the constant reminder of what you could have been. A true champion, the best champion the world has ever seen. I’m you, Kyle…if you weren’t a failure. Everything you’re not is everything I am, the greatest in the world.
What do I have to do to teach you two a lesson? Just beat you both this Sunday at Crossroads. I just have to climb up the ladder, and retrieve what is mine, and that’s the World Heavyweight Championship. No talk about not ‘deserving’ this, no more discussion about how much we ‘hate’ each other. Nothing. Just a realization that everything I say is truth, everything I say is just things you don’t want to believe. This Sunday I’ll make you realize that I’m right, just
Thank Me Later.”
The words I never said hold more weight than the ones I’ve have…
While I told her I loved her, I’ve never told her how much I needed her, how without here Charlie Velez is nothing…how without her Charlie Velez ceases to exist.
This championship doesn’t mean as much as she does to me, even though I love that belt more than anything. Annette Velez is my life…
And without her I have no life.
I just have a bunch of pictures.