Please
(Fade In: Mark Windham, visibly shaken.)
“Hell’s brewing, dark sun’s on the rise
This storm will blow through, by and by
House is on fire, vipers in the grass
Little revenge and this too shall pass
This too shall pass, darling
Yeah I’m gonna pray
Right now, all I got’s this lonesome day
Lonesome day.”
MARK WINDHAM: (quoting) “Maybe it's because in that ring...in that moment where everything but the present steals away and becomes irrelevant...that's where I find my purpose.”
As I said, Ryan, I know you better than you know yourself. You speak of scripts mockingly, yet we’re playing from the same one. Difference between us Dan, is I’m waiting at the bitter end.
As much as I want company, you don’t have to follow. Write a new ending, Ryan. Take that weight off your shoulders and create a new path for yourself.
Who’s fault is it that I know you so well, that I empathize with being controlled by pride?
I was a self-made man too. Too proud to give a damn, but I’m making your choice so easy. Ryan, no one ever told me, the dream is what destroys. No soul stepped forward to cut me loose. I was set up to drop, as my ghosts quietly watched.
Who’s fault is it I was made to hate myself? It’s the answer I search for in vain.
I run from a need.
In that moment, as we said, this ****ed up life doesn’t matter. It’s just us, at the top of our games, invisible to ourselves, and the trouble attracted to our footprints.
Dan, I don’t wanna be your Personal Jesus. I don’t have that much love. No, Dan...the truth is, I hate you.
I hate because I see myself.
It’s there.
On the edges.
In the thin blackness of your heart.
Waiting.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
To go off.
I know, what you’re going to say, and you’re right. We make our own beds. If my convictions strayed, it was my own fault. This life is what I’ve made of it.
This I know.
I wish it weren’t so. I wish I could spin my world back into control. But I can’t. I have to lie, covered with mistakes, in the corner of what time I have left.
As much as I swear I’d do so many things differently, in August I kicked the same ol’ dog again. I made you; I set you on the bitter path engulfing me.
You very well may have held seven other World titles, if so, that’s great. But your name was made off me.
Which belt are you defending in Wales? Which World title’s allowed you to cut back on the work days? Your name’s in lights because you pinned me.
That’s the non-deniable truth.
And now...you’re too far lost to come out clean. It’s the thirst to stay where you’re at now, that kills. Eight World titles. It won’t stay there, will it?
No...there’s a ninth. Tenth...and then...we descend.
When you have to work harder to find that peace, you’re a shell of yourself, but you can’t turn away. Not for us Dan, not when that title...the glory in the ring we’ve found is all that’s kept us going these years.
So you’ll hide.
Forget everyone who’s ever loved you and disappear for years. Believing, dreaming...you can return soon and the thirst will have dissipated.
It never does.
So you’ll challenge yourself, that this time...you can handle the separation anxiety that comes with parting from the peace.
I couldn’t, Dan.
Beating the hell out of a twenty-eight year-old mid-carder does nothing for you anymore. The sh*t thing I did to you, I placed you on a level that narrows your opportunity to find our moment.
To be well...to keep the demons at bay, you have to have the most to lose. You have to have that title, and the fame sleeping with it.
So you’ll sell yourself to get it one more time.
Maybe you will, I hope for your sake you do.
And then...when the pieces are ripe to be put back together, there will be someone knocking on your door, hands extended, wanting to be made.
Don’t do it, Dan.
Don’t you make the same mistake that I did. Don’t you force your life onto someone else.
I’m bigger than this sport! This city and all the riches in it are mine! When you’re where I am...you don’t have to chase ghosts with ***** like Troy. You just have to fight the narrowing of the light, and take back the gold blanket those begger’s hands stole from you.
I feel, and it’s so hard to trust my feelings anymore, that there’s hope for you. That if you could hand me the title back, your life could still be saved.
(Windham moves closer to the camera, begs almost.)
Let me take it from you Dan. Let me save you from the hell I put myself through.
Look at me...it’s all I have left. Let me touch it Dan, I just...want that fleeting moment of peace taken from me six months ago.
I’ll hold it for you. While you deal with your issues. If I have the belt I could counsel you.
Who knows, maybe...we could even become friends.
I need that Dan.
I’m a little lonely these days.
(FTB)