It was an overwhelming feeling. It was like taking a shower, but never feeling clean... that undeniable sense of dread, of guilt and of sorrow mixing together into an intoxicating cocktail of emotions poured straight into my chest. I could hear the muffled sounds of the people surrounding me, the unmistaken voice of the woman I loved trying to say something to get through the silent shield erected in my mind.
"Dominic? Dominic, are you... sweety, say something. Please, just... say something."
I wanted to answer her. I wanted to grant her request, more than anything in the world I just wanted to turn to her... look her in the eyes, tell her I was fine. I wanted that so damn much, but I also knew I couldn't lie to her. I wasn't fine. I couldn't tell her that there was nothing wrong when it was so patently obvious what it was that was getting to me.
It had never been about wins and losses, never about titles or records... never even about the legacy I could leave behind; no, see... maybe I really am that boy scout everyone hails me to be, but the truth of the matter is that it had never been for anything other than love that I did this. I prided myself on that love, the love I'd held for the business and for my colleagues and for the fans... I only functioned because that love existed.
"Dominic...?"
There was a pain in my chest, spreading through with icey tendrils reaching out and clutching at nerve-endings, climbing through my ribcage, stabbing at my skin. It felt like I was being frozen inside-out, but on the outside... my flesh was fire-hot, burning red tinging the pigment and making it clear to all that there was something brewing inside of me that I'd likely have no control over.
Still, I couldn't deny her wishes any longer... I looked into the eyes of my wife and saw the tears that filled them, tears of concern for me and my well-being, tears that I had caused through my silence. If it wasn't for the crushing weight of what I'd done to my best friend bringing me down enough to force the tears from my eyes, it would have been her own tears that did it for me. I knew there were people around us, staff members and coworkers and wrestlers alike... all concerned for my well-being, but as it was... I simply sat there beside my wife and... I broke down.
It wasn't because of losing the company's title. It wasn't because of losing to Chris Champion. It wasn't even because I'd finally had my winning streak broken. No material reason could form the tears in my eyes, it... it was something profoundly more impactful on my life as a whole.
I had pushed my dying best friend to the brink, verbally, in a selfish effort to force him into giving me his best. He had done it, he... he had thrown it all at me, and after being in the match since nearly its beginning, I couldn't handle his best at the time. Still, I put up my best effort... and, when the dust had settled, I'd been given the news that he'd been rushed to the hospital, the poison in his veins taking advantage of his fallen state.
I had pushed him too hard... I was the reason he was in the hospital, and if he were to recover and get out, I would be the reason he'd be subject to the strains of carrying a dying company on his back as its champion.
"I failed him, Suki, I... I...."
I failed.