Guilt...

A couple of weeks ago, I got a ride to my parent's house from a friend. On the way, I realized Mariah Carey's smash-hit album The Emancipation Of Mimi was blaring out of the sound system. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself right back in the middle of that horrible day receiving the news. "He can't be dead." I was repeating this over and over in a state of utter numbness. Moments earlier, my brother had called to tell us. Not wanting to believe it to be true, we contacted his family immediately, hoping with everything in us that it was some terrible mistake. Unfortunately, the worst was confirmed. This was absolutely insane. Not an hour before, I was so excited to listen to the new Mariah Carey release that my mother had picked up for me.

Now, sitting there reeling and unable to speak, the unopened CD caught my eye. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of disgust at the site of it. Some time much later, I remember thinking that a CD was a strange thing to focus my anger on. I promptly threw the CD away, not being able to make it through the first song. The next couple of days and weeks ran together in a pool of sadness. Losing someone who you feel is responsible for helping shape you into the person you are is unfathomable. I will always regret not seeing him as often as I would have liked in those last few years. I wish I could turn the clock back...

Reality snapped back into focus as we pulled up the long driveway to the farm. The few tears on my face were swept away before questions were hurled my way. At several points throughout the day, an idea kept recurring. If I borrowed the CD and was able to make it through without breaking, perhaps some of the guilt I felt about the possibility of feeling joy, (which didn't happen), on such a horrible day would disappear. The logic may not have made sense to other people had I spoke it allowed, but it did to me.

I haven't yet been able to listen without those feelings of guilt and anger creeping back in. Hell, I haven't even made it halfway through. Maybe I never will.

I can't wait for the day when we meet again and can listen and laugh together. All will be as it should then...

Copyright 2008 Regis C. Spangler III

Ever Happen To You?

Ever Happen To You?

So, the other night, I'm laying in my bed somewhere between two worlds. I had just spent what I believe to be an hour dreaming about the wonder that is ECW and fantasizing about what an amazing career choice wrestling must be. Right before I was about to enter the ring to compete in my first contest, I was unceremoniously awakened by the horrible scream of a frightened cat. After the couple of seconds it took to reclaim my wits, I glanced around the room wondering what hellish fate had befallen my precious feline. It took me but a minute to realize that all the unnecessary behavior was over a plastic ball with a bell inside apparently just out of reach. Now, fully awake, I was upset over this utter nonsense.

Unable to reclaim the glory that is sleep, I lay wide-eyed wondering how emotions could change so quickly. While other thoughts along those lines swirled themselves around in my head like a giant tornado, a specific one kept recurring. What would happen if my dreams of professional wrestling success were to suddenly come true? How would life change? Would it change at all? Think of the most sensational dream you've ever had and how it coming true might affect you.

What if everything you've ever known was turned on its head with the quickness of a hiccup?

What seemed like an eternity passed before sleep came calling again. The next morning came without interruption. Throughout the day, I found myself thinking of the self-therapy session of the night before. Again, my mind was overcome by more questions then answers. However, there was one thing that seemed crystal clear through the fog. We are in charge of our destiny and can make life whatever we wish it to be. Dreams, no matter how small, outlandish, or seemingly insignificant, must be followed through to conclusion. The events and questions of that night forced me to reevaluate my life and it's dreams. I hope this little story helps whoever reads it do the same.