Post by Charlie Velez on Aug 18, 2012 20:22:15 GMT -6
I can just close my eyes, and I see it perfectly…
Her body, how it sways back and forth as I lay on my bed, watching, waiting…just waiting for her to crawl into bed with me.
The way her body was perfectly shaped; how the body was curved perfectly, in places that can make any man wish they could have it all the time.
Her sweet skin; just the way it tasted, it tasted sweeter than any chocolate you could imagine. The way how you’d run your hands across her back and just feel her goosebumps.
Then her lips; silky soft, when they were pressed against yours it felt like you were on a drug. Your lips got numb, your mind went to a place that it’s never been before.
Your body felt like it was floating.
Then her hair; how it was like a lion’s mane, beautiful and elegant. When you’d run your hands through it, it’d feel as soft as silk.
And those eyes…
Don’t get me started on those eyes.
When you’d look into those eyes, jeez…it felt like you fell into a waterfall. You’d swim around, and it’d be like paradise.
Those big…beautiful eyes.
Then there’s her beautiful faults.
Like that scar she has on her knee. She apparently got it when she was five years old, falling off her bike. She needed stitches; she told me how squeamish she was looking at the needle.
Or when she used to sleep, how she’d have her mouth open, slightly drooling onto her pillow. She’d wake up in the morning, wipe it off, and turn her pillow around, making sure that I never actually saw it.
I did. And I loved it.
These memories, these images I have in my head, that’s all I have left as I lay here in bed. The lights on and I could read a book, trying to take my mind off things, but it’s no use.
It somehow comes back to the same thing every single day, no matter how hard I try to beat it out of my mind.
I want to look at the pillow next to me, and not wish for her to be here…
“But I still love her.”
“So that’s how we’re going to do things, Kingsley? Half-assley?
You have the world at your oyster; as a NCW superstar you can go anywhere you want, and read anything about me. Hell, you can go off and speak to legends and ask about me. Ask about my weaknesses, or hell, even use the internet to read about me. You can go to any bum on the street who’s ever seen a wrestling event and ask them about Charlie Velez, and while they’d cream their pants at the sound of my name, you would have gotten something at least.
But…you ask The Ace?
The Ace? A man who wasn’t even in my circle, let alone the same building as me? You could have gotten some good dirt on me…
But you didn’t even scratch the surface.
You want to know about me, Kingsley? Let me give you a history lesson.
At the age of eighteen I entered the wrestling business. I was an all class wrestler in high school, a straight A-student. I was third in my class. I had schools knocking on my door; partly because my family was the richest to reside in the Chicago area and did a lot of great things for the community, but because they wanted an all around gifted person like myself. But I didn’t choose school…no, in a move that my mother still regrets today I took all my money and I put it into wrestling. Brain Doggy Dog wrestling school, and I studied under some of the best this industry has seen. As an eighteen year old I was in the ring with Mongo the Destroyer, I was being slapped around by my mentor Destruction.
I was gifted at everything I did.
But it wasn’t a fast ride to the top, no. I tagged with my brother and while we had success, I always played second fiddle. I was too nice of a guy, I let people walk over me and I didn’t get anywhere except in circles. So I made a change, I cut my hair, I adopted a new attitude.
I found new friends. I created The Young Guns. And you know what we did?
We took control.
And it’s all history from there.
But do you see something there, Kingsley? I took control. I always take control. Just like I was the best wrestler in high school, to being the smartest kid in Advanced Physics, to being the top superstar in professional wrestling, everything I touch it becomes gold. I’m a former World Heavyweight Champion not because I had a ‘God Complex’, I have a ‘God Complex’ because I’m a former World Heavyweight Champion. A great one at that. People like you and Ace throw rocks at me because I see things different, because I think higher of myself than most people do of themselves.
It’s hard to be humble when I keep posing on a jumbotron.
Can I take the heat, Kingsley?
Here’s what you don’t get about me, Kingsley. I was born in the fire. The fire is what burned my insides, it’s what overcame me and made me into the man I am today. Can I stand the heat?
I am the ****ing fire.
I’m the light that blinds, the only shinning light this company has. People around here pretend to be Kings and tell you about how hard it is to be one…
I’m a God, and I sit on my throne and watch peasants like you and laugh.
I don’t need to get into your head, Kingsley. I’m already there. That’s why you go to people like The Ace and ask questions. You know you can’t win. You know that the match itself is just a formality…
You already know the result.
You’re a big man, sure, but they all sound the same in the end…
Splat.
That’s all it’s going to be this Sunday.
You’re just a small part of this mosaic I’m building for this Sunday, Kingsley. You’re going to see that you’re in the middle of a fire…
The Fire Rises.”
I sit on the side of my bed with my phone through my hands. My hand hovers over her name, with a simple click, I could easily call her.
I could tell her how I feel and how I’ve felt for so long; about how I’ve made my mistakes, yes…and how I’ve lived with the consequences.
How I’m not as strong as I make myself often look.
Come on…all it takes it a click.
But a message flashes on my screen instead.
“Talk to me.”
A half smile.
“I don’t know how much more we have to talk about.”
Send.
A few seconds pass.
“Are you alone?”
A strange question.
“Yeah.”
A few seconds pass by. I hear a sound outside my door. Followed by a knock.
“I’m here.”
An adequate filler.
Her body, how it sways back and forth as I lay on my bed, watching, waiting…just waiting for her to crawl into bed with me.
The way her body was perfectly shaped; how the body was curved perfectly, in places that can make any man wish they could have it all the time.
Her sweet skin; just the way it tasted, it tasted sweeter than any chocolate you could imagine. The way how you’d run your hands across her back and just feel her goosebumps.
Then her lips; silky soft, when they were pressed against yours it felt like you were on a drug. Your lips got numb, your mind went to a place that it’s never been before.
Your body felt like it was floating.
Then her hair; how it was like a lion’s mane, beautiful and elegant. When you’d run your hands through it, it’d feel as soft as silk.
And those eyes…
Don’t get me started on those eyes.
When you’d look into those eyes, jeez…it felt like you fell into a waterfall. You’d swim around, and it’d be like paradise.
Those big…beautiful eyes.
Then there’s her beautiful faults.
Like that scar she has on her knee. She apparently got it when she was five years old, falling off her bike. She needed stitches; she told me how squeamish she was looking at the needle.
Or when she used to sleep, how she’d have her mouth open, slightly drooling onto her pillow. She’d wake up in the morning, wipe it off, and turn her pillow around, making sure that I never actually saw it.
I did. And I loved it.
These memories, these images I have in my head, that’s all I have left as I lay here in bed. The lights on and I could read a book, trying to take my mind off things, but it’s no use.
It somehow comes back to the same thing every single day, no matter how hard I try to beat it out of my mind.
I want to look at the pillow next to me, and not wish for her to be here…
“But I still love her.”
“So that’s how we’re going to do things, Kingsley? Half-assley?
You have the world at your oyster; as a NCW superstar you can go anywhere you want, and read anything about me. Hell, you can go off and speak to legends and ask about me. Ask about my weaknesses, or hell, even use the internet to read about me. You can go to any bum on the street who’s ever seen a wrestling event and ask them about Charlie Velez, and while they’d cream their pants at the sound of my name, you would have gotten something at least.
But…you ask The Ace?
The Ace? A man who wasn’t even in my circle, let alone the same building as me? You could have gotten some good dirt on me…
But you didn’t even scratch the surface.
You want to know about me, Kingsley? Let me give you a history lesson.
At the age of eighteen I entered the wrestling business. I was an all class wrestler in high school, a straight A-student. I was third in my class. I had schools knocking on my door; partly because my family was the richest to reside in the Chicago area and did a lot of great things for the community, but because they wanted an all around gifted person like myself. But I didn’t choose school…no, in a move that my mother still regrets today I took all my money and I put it into wrestling. Brain Doggy Dog wrestling school, and I studied under some of the best this industry has seen. As an eighteen year old I was in the ring with Mongo the Destroyer, I was being slapped around by my mentor Destruction.
I was gifted at everything I did.
But it wasn’t a fast ride to the top, no. I tagged with my brother and while we had success, I always played second fiddle. I was too nice of a guy, I let people walk over me and I didn’t get anywhere except in circles. So I made a change, I cut my hair, I adopted a new attitude.
I found new friends. I created The Young Guns. And you know what we did?
We took control.
And it’s all history from there.
But do you see something there, Kingsley? I took control. I always take control. Just like I was the best wrestler in high school, to being the smartest kid in Advanced Physics, to being the top superstar in professional wrestling, everything I touch it becomes gold. I’m a former World Heavyweight Champion not because I had a ‘God Complex’, I have a ‘God Complex’ because I’m a former World Heavyweight Champion. A great one at that. People like you and Ace throw rocks at me because I see things different, because I think higher of myself than most people do of themselves.
It’s hard to be humble when I keep posing on a jumbotron.
Can I take the heat, Kingsley?
Here’s what you don’t get about me, Kingsley. I was born in the fire. The fire is what burned my insides, it’s what overcame me and made me into the man I am today. Can I stand the heat?
I am the ****ing fire.
I’m the light that blinds, the only shinning light this company has. People around here pretend to be Kings and tell you about how hard it is to be one…
I’m a God, and I sit on my throne and watch peasants like you and laugh.
I don’t need to get into your head, Kingsley. I’m already there. That’s why you go to people like The Ace and ask questions. You know you can’t win. You know that the match itself is just a formality…
You already know the result.
You’re a big man, sure, but they all sound the same in the end…
Splat.
That’s all it’s going to be this Sunday.
You’re just a small part of this mosaic I’m building for this Sunday, Kingsley. You’re going to see that you’re in the middle of a fire…
The Fire Rises.”
I sit on the side of my bed with my phone through my hands. My hand hovers over her name, with a simple click, I could easily call her.
I could tell her how I feel and how I’ve felt for so long; about how I’ve made my mistakes, yes…and how I’ve lived with the consequences.
How I’m not as strong as I make myself often look.
Come on…all it takes it a click.
But a message flashes on my screen instead.
“Talk to me.”
A half smile.
“I don’t know how much more we have to talk about.”
Send.
A few seconds pass.
“Are you alone?”
A strange question.
“Yeah.”
A few seconds pass by. I hear a sound outside my door. Followed by a knock.
“I’m here.”
An adequate filler.
