Eight Years. Three Months. Two Days. I didn't count the hours.

Gone

10 deaths

Countless Marriages

2 Almost Babies

7 Broken Bones

Bitter Disappointments

Extreme Joys

Modelling

Marines

Leaving Modelling

Army Prison

2 Diamond Albums

8 Championship Reigns

Gone

All That was left:

1 Proposal

1 Phonecall

1 Drunken Night

1 Very Public Finality

I was numb. Selfishly I felt less able to feel than the night my mother died. All that was left was that tingling feeling that subsided as the heaviness set it, the gut wrenching internal screaming of suppressed tears and howls of pain. The animalistic urge to kick, hurt – do anything as long as you can feel something, anything other than the heaviness and the tingling. No thoughts entered my mind other than masochistic replays as I tried to understand what had happened, how it had happened, when it had happened, why it had happened. Searching for answers in which there were none that would be satisfactory to even the smallest of questions of any such event. Let alone a succession, one after another, like the steady procession of tremors after the devastation of an earthquake.

I shot for the sky
I'm stuck on the ground
So why do I try, I know I'm gonna to fall down
I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?

I was sixteen when my mom died. Maybe that was some form of an inadequate reason as I felt less devastated than I do now, perhaps the memory had subsided, had been blocked out and put to the back of my mind. However the events of the past six weeks made this feeling fresh; like a cut or a break that begins to heal and then you scrape it again or move in a strange way and the pain comes flooding back.

My life; my world as I knew it had come crashing down around me within a matter of weeks. Finding out about the baby. My leg. The miscarriage. The phonecall. The twenty four hours spent trying to decipher what we could save of our relationship. The ending of our relationship. The scene on Raw. It was over. And now I had to go about rebuilding a life that was now empty. Fear and self pity consumed my every pore. I could not rebuild. I could not think. I could not be.

Never know why it's coming down, down, down.
Oh I am going down, down, down
Can't find another way around
And I don't want to hear the sound, of losing what I never found.