Post by Eron Hunter on May 26, 2023 11:13:54 GMT -5
“It´s a Friday that feels like Monday“
He mumbled, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling is all he was doing. The rain poured down heavily, knocking at the window looking as if it was desperately trying to come home; looking as if it was trying to capture his attention.
But he didn´t notice.
Shaking his head, he took another deep breath and went on with his mumbling.
“Every time I walked away I thought it was the last time. I always thought it, every time. I always thought I was done with Wrestling, and for good. I was ready to move on and do something else. Become a fisherman, a professional chess player, and a singer.
Anything but a Wrestler.
And every time I did so, I always ended up coming back.
It was so the last time too. People said I walked away because I lost; because I lost the XHF Junior Heavyweight Title and the other titles as well. Badmouths that just patiently await a slip to talk shit behind your back, said so. They said Eron Hunter was a poor loser; that he walked away because he lost. But it wasn’t so…
I didn´t walk away because I lost.
I lost because I was walking away!
I was sure this time was the last time I would end up lacing those wrestling boots and walk into that ring. I was sure I was done with the cheering of the fans and the adrenaline rush that accompanies you while you pace toward that squared circle.
But, alas, for the badmouths and the bad wishers; Eron Hunter seems to not be done yet. I did what I had to do, I walked back here, back home, and took care of business, of the family business, but as the time flew by and as things returned to tranquility I understood one thing, again, and that thing is that I am not cut to be a stink normal human being with a stink normal job and a usual week.
When Fridays start to feel like Mondays and everything becomes routine, when I can’t keep track of the days that fly by, one just like the other, that is when the time comes, a time in which the normal businessman in me has to step aside and the warrior, the fighter, comes up again.”
He stood halfway up and turned the radio on. A tranquil piece of orchestral music started playing in the background, peacefully accompanying the rain which was still knocking on the window.
He shook his head and smiled.
Luckily there were still choices for him. It always is so, when someone pours heart, passion, and will into something. There are ill-disposed people out there, wishing nothing but bad luck for you, but there are also fans, people who respect your effort and heart and wish for your comeback.
Eron Hunter was sure the fans had not forgotten him.
He was sure they would be there, cheering for him. At least some of them. And for as long as there is love for something and respect for other things, there is always the possibility of a return. That is what Eron hoped would happen. He was ready to lace them wrestling boots again and he hoped, no he was sure, that there would be people out there welcoming him back home.
He smiled, took a deep breath, and sat there looking at the window. The rain had stopped and a soft breeze was caressing the leaves. The sonata playing in the background was just like a good wish from someone, a respectful cheer that accompanies the return of the fighter.
There are always days that start feeling monotonous, but luckily enough there are things one can do to stop that.
Choices.
He mumbled, lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling is all he was doing. The rain poured down heavily, knocking at the window looking as if it was desperately trying to come home; looking as if it was trying to capture his attention.
But he didn´t notice.
Shaking his head, he took another deep breath and went on with his mumbling.
“Every time I walked away I thought it was the last time. I always thought it, every time. I always thought I was done with Wrestling, and for good. I was ready to move on and do something else. Become a fisherman, a professional chess player, and a singer.
Anything but a Wrestler.
And every time I did so, I always ended up coming back.
It was so the last time too. People said I walked away because I lost; because I lost the XHF Junior Heavyweight Title and the other titles as well. Badmouths that just patiently await a slip to talk shit behind your back, said so. They said Eron Hunter was a poor loser; that he walked away because he lost. But it wasn’t so…
I didn´t walk away because I lost.
I lost because I was walking away!
I was sure this time was the last time I would end up lacing those wrestling boots and walk into that ring. I was sure I was done with the cheering of the fans and the adrenaline rush that accompanies you while you pace toward that squared circle.
But, alas, for the badmouths and the bad wishers; Eron Hunter seems to not be done yet. I did what I had to do, I walked back here, back home, and took care of business, of the family business, but as the time flew by and as things returned to tranquility I understood one thing, again, and that thing is that I am not cut to be a stink normal human being with a stink normal job and a usual week.
When Fridays start to feel like Mondays and everything becomes routine, when I can’t keep track of the days that fly by, one just like the other, that is when the time comes, a time in which the normal businessman in me has to step aside and the warrior, the fighter, comes up again.”
He stood halfway up and turned the radio on. A tranquil piece of orchestral music started playing in the background, peacefully accompanying the rain which was still knocking on the window.
He shook his head and smiled.
Luckily there were still choices for him. It always is so, when someone pours heart, passion, and will into something. There are ill-disposed people out there, wishing nothing but bad luck for you, but there are also fans, people who respect your effort and heart and wish for your comeback.
Eron Hunter was sure the fans had not forgotten him.
He was sure they would be there, cheering for him. At least some of them. And for as long as there is love for something and respect for other things, there is always the possibility of a return. That is what Eron hoped would happen. He was ready to lace them wrestling boots again and he hoped, no he was sure, that there would be people out there welcoming him back home.
He smiled, took a deep breath, and sat there looking at the window. The rain had stopped and a soft breeze was caressing the leaves. The sonata playing in the background was just like a good wish from someone, a respectful cheer that accompanies the return of the fighter.
There are always days that start feeling monotonous, but luckily enough there are things one can do to stop that.
Choices.
