“I think you are wrong to want a heart. It makes most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a heart."
The moth doesn't live for very long. A typical house moth can live for a maximum of ten months. In that time, everything the moth accomplished, worked for and lived for amounts to nothing. Its time is fleeting and if it lives out its natural lifespan, it can stick around just long enough to possibly see a new season emerge.
The condo that once belonged to two people, and now only one, had a moth arrive in the summer of 2020. It got in from outside, possibly after being let out from someone else's house. It somehow went undetected during its in entire life. If the moth could talk, or perhaps had the capacity to think, maybe it would have seen what was coming.
Because even though this moth could not understand what was going on, and saw the two giants as figures to avoid for its own survival, the moth managed to share a lifespan with the final moments of what had been, for a long time, a good relationship. A relationship that at times, even at its worst, seemed like it would go the distance.
The moth had no inkling of what a relationship or love even was. Once again, these were detriments to its survival and instead it fluttered about in search of food and safety.
This particular moth was old and near death by the time JC made it back to the condo. Its movements were slower and soon its wings would flutter for the last time. Perhaps that was why when JC opened the door and shuffled inside, the moth was unable to avoid him and careened off his left shoulder, spiraling down until it landed softly on his bag.
Its wing was broken, which it discovered when it tried to fly back up, only to flutter down to the floor.
The moth's final moments would be to witness the final moments of a relationship that was meant to last forever.
But nothing lasts forever.
Joe sighed as he glanced around the near-dark apartment, returning from a trip to Reno for his other job. He didn't really know why he was going there. Between all the issues with Lucy and the setbacks in his career, he knew his heart wasn't in it anymore. He was simply going through the motions, ignoring the purveying sense of upcoming doom that had been following him for weeks now.
It's believed that sometimes we can tell when something bad is going to happen. Perhaps everyone is a bit psychic. Maybe it's more that the signs soon become obvious even to the most oblivious of us.
Joe knew what the letter said before he even opened it. His mother’s engagement ring acting as a de facto paperweight gave away the secrets it contained.
"Fuck," he muttered. He really didn't know what else to say. What else was there to say? The word just seemed to fit.
He glanced around and realized that things were missing. He suspected if he went to their bedroom, he'd find her closet cleaned out.
"Fuck," he repeated. He even threw in a "shit" for good measure.
After pocketing the ring, he lightly grasped the note and considered opening it. Part of him wanted to. But ultimately, he placed it back on the counter, taking a great amount of care to leave it as he found it, handling it delicately as though it were fragile. Joe knew a ‘Dear John’ letter when he saw it. And truth be told, right now he guessed that if Lucy couldn’t show him enough respect to talk to him face-to-face about this decision, she didn’t deserve the respect of him reading her last words to him. She gave up, he didn’t and he was too angry to bother reading her reasoning at that time.
A text alarm went off on his phone. He pulled the device out of his pocket and looked at it.
From T.S....Hey Caveman. W.U.A.?
Joe stared at the phone for a moment, dumbfounded. He couldn’t figure out why Trent Steel, of all people, would be texting him. And he wasn’t sure if he was in the mood to deal with another fractured relationship in his life. But before he could make any decisions, the phone buzzed again.
W.U.A.?
Joe rolled his eyes and texted back.
I don’t know what you’re trying to say.
Where. U. At!
What exactly would he say? “I’m at mine and Lucy’s place?” Clearly that wasn’t true. “Home?” No that wasn’t true either. The place stopped being home the second that letter was written.
At the condo.
Good. You got a present. O.T.F.D.
Trent, never one that was any good with technology, was making acronyms out of phrases that weren’t acronyms. If he were in a better mood, he might have found it funny. Instead, he was annoyed.
O.T.F.D.?
“I know...the worst strip-o-gram ever.”
Joe shrugged and held his hands out.
“If you’re here to kick my ass, make it quick. A hospital trip would be a step up right now.”
For a moment Trent chuckled. Then he went back to his usual serious demeanor. His friend looked tired. So tired. So much stress and pressure had worked into his body that he looked like a wreck.
“I’m not here to fight...I’m here to...Bare with me because this is very hard for me to do even when I’m not barely holding it together...I’m here to forgive you. I’m here to try and fix whatever is going on. I’m here to stop being a stubborn prick and be a good friend for once.”
A sigh escaped Joe and he motioned for Trent to come in.
“I don’t know if I deserve forgiveness, but come on in.”
Trent walked inside and Joe shut the door behind him. He then muttered under his breath, remembering a similar incident with another friend weeks ago.
“Why people always have to show up unannounced I have no idea…”
“Less time for you to make excuses why they can’t come over because you wanna be miserable.” Trent said, looking around. “Oh sorry. I ha...have three teenage kids. I’m used to deciphering muttering.”
“Yeah,” Joe added, his mind elsewhere. Part of him didn’t trust Trent, even though he knew that while Trent was many things, a liar was not one of them. If his friend said he was here to mend fences, that’s what he was here to do. The onus was now on Joe to keep JC from coming out and destroying that, like he destroyed everything else he touched.
“So,” he started. “I’m supposed to believe you came all this way, after I attacked you and ran your home fed into the ground, to patch things up?”
“I’m not here to talk shit about wrestling. I’m here to talk about you and I.” Trent said, looking for a pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket but realizing he didn’t have any. “Oh yeah. I’m quitting again. Anyway, Joe, I could have come here. Beat your ass. And I’ll be honest. Part of me really wanted to. You know, everything I care about got taken from me, well almost everything. I go home to an empty house. I wait by the phone for a call I hope comes and I hope never comes because hey...it could be they’ve been found...or that they're dead. So losing my cool and breaking someone would be a great idea...except...I don’t want to. I don’t want to beat you up, because I know why you did what you did Joe. You were, in your own weird way, trying to look out for me. And considering how fucked up things have been I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I figured I can come here and talk things out with you...or we could beat the hell out of each other if it doesn’t work out. Your call.”
Joe wasn’t sure how to react, but opted to joke instead.
“Jesus, I didn’t expect a promo. I think I’d rather you punch my lights out.”
“That’s not a promo.” Trent cocked an eyebrow at Joe and cleared his throat.
“This…”
Trent paused.
“Is…”
Another pause.
“My…”
Another one, slightly longer this time.
“Promo!”
Joe shook his head.
“I should have packed a lunch for this.”
He then moved to the counter and stood in front of where the letter was, not even realizing he was blocking it from view. It just happened to be where he stood.
“Okay,” he shrugged. “So you’re not here to fight. But the match is booked. And it’s an I Quit match. So we’re fighting either way.”
“Yeah, but a fight fight or just a match...that’s what I’m here to figure out.” Trent said, walking past Joe toward the kitchen area. He started looking for a glass. “I swear one of these days I’m going to come here and just reorganize this shit.”
Joe shrugged again. “Feel free,” he said. “I’m not really sure how much longer I’ll be here.”
After the words came out, he regretted it. Trent didn’t really know there were problems with Lucy. Joe didn’t even really know the problems were serious enough for…the letter. Mostly because he had been trying like hell to help her and keep her around. But some people can’t be helped. Or don’t want to be. And he would continue to blame himself regardless.
He changed the subject back.
“Well, you know why I did it. It was a stupid way to go about it but you’re just as much of a stubborn fuck as I am, so I had to get your attention somehow.”
“Next time...try bribing me with a steak dinner.” Trent said, laughing a bit as he kept looking around the kitchen. Joe could have helped him, but truthfully he found the search amusing. “Ah...There you are.”
Trent came out with two glasses of water.
“Seriously why would you put your glasses there?” Trent sighed as he pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna order a pizza or something. I dunno about you, but I’m starving.”
Joe shook his head.
“I’m…”
He thought about the unread letter as he continued to lean against the counter. His hand went to his pocket, where he felt the cool metal of the ring press against his palm.
“I’m not really hungry.”
“Eh I’ll order a large anyway. I know you’re going to get hungry anyway.” Trent said as he pulled out his phone. “Oh boy...pizza app. Let’s see…”
He walked over to the counter and leaned on it.
“You alright?”
Joe let out dry, humorless laugh that almost sounded like a bark.
“Listen to this guy. I stomp your head and put you in the hospital, and you’re asking me if I’m okay.”
He squeezed the ring in his pocket, which once belonged to his mother and once belonged to a woman he loved and now belonged to him again. The finality of it, without even knowing the details, had really started to hit him.
He really did wish he could be fighting. Fighting made sense. This didn’t.
“I’m fine,” he lied, wondering if Trent already realized he wasn’t or was even aware that Lucy wasn’t around.
“Oh yeah...totally believe you.” Trent said, walking around and grabbing a chair. “As far as my head is concerned you’ll be happy to know no real damage just...some flashes here and there.”
Trent sat down and looked over at Joe.
“You know for a guy who wanted to talk to me a few months ago you sure are keeping yourself quiet. What’s up?”
Joe sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Sometimes it was hard for him to say what he needed to say. Sometimes it was hard to get the right words out. Sometimes he said too much. But at this point, what did he have to lose, really? His world had ended. He was in the nascent stages of a personal post-apocalyptic state.
So even if the person he tried to annihilate was now over here trying to make amends, and even if he didn’t fully trust the situation, what exactly did he have to lose?
Joe stepped to the right and gestured at the note.
“Lucy’s gone.”
Saying it out loud made it real, and making it real caused a deep, heavy ache to come over his heart.
“Didn’t even....she left a note,” he said, being very careful not to say anything disrespectful in his heightened emotional state. “I haven’t read it. Leaving the ring on top kinda told me all I needed to know.”
Trent was quiet for a moment. If you actually got to know Trent, he always had something to say in any situation. The guy could have a masterstroke of verbal warfare from out of nowhere given the right situation, but this time...nothing. Trent got up from where he was sitting and walked over to him.
“That sucks. I got nothing more poetic to say here, but I can offer something that might help put things in perspective. I never did tell you how I found out it was over with me and Jennifer did I?”
Joe shook his head. Trent was a person who would talk a mile a minute about his family. He would even talk about his ex in the best light possible, which was always weird to Joe. He would call someone...anyone, out on their shit...except Jenn. It was odd, but Joe figured maybe the guy was still in love with her.
“So we had the triplets and I retired. It was supposed to be temporary. Then about the time they turned three I got back into it. That’s when I joined OWF for the first time. And then a bit after that Ryan, you know the goofy one, got sick. Had a mass on his stomach. Turned out it was operable, things were gonna be fine, but you can imagine two people getting put under a lot of stress. Jennifer used to go on the road with me before we were married but now she barely ever went to a wrestling match. She got really distant, and I didn’t really notice. I figure she just didn’t like people booing me or whatever. I don’t know when I quit really paying attention. I don’t know what all she tried because I didn’t notice. I won my first world title in OWF about the time Ryan’s surgery happened. And then a few weeks later I lose it to the honorable Jesse Williams.”
There was a snort of laughter. Trent hated Jesse more than anyone back in the day. The fact he could laugh about losing to him now showed that even the hardest of us could mellow out. Things, and people, really do change.
“The thing is losing that world title wasn’t as bad as the flight delay home. I got home so late I guess she thought I was going to get a hotel or something and come home in the morning. That late at night and some of the servants are still up. The moment I walked into that mansion...man...I knew something was up. I go check on the kids. All three are out like a light, and I get to our bedroom. No one ever prepares you to talk into your bedroom and see your wife riding reverse cowgirl on someone, but there she was.”
Joe chuckled. He couldn't help it. It was such a casual way to describe such an awful situation.
“That story escalated quickly.”
“When I have a bad day...I have really bad days.” Trent laughed a bit himself. “So. I’m standing there and they stop. The dude bolts out of the room so fast, but I knew who it was. It was her assistant. Real corporate ladder climber type. Apparently he figured climbing my wife as a good way to get a better job...I did enjoy it when he got fired the next day. So I stand there. You know. I had just lost the world title. I had just had to swallow my pride. I had a lousy flight home. And none of that mattered. I just said one thing. ‘Why?’ and she said ‘I finally got your attention didn’t I?…”
Joe glanced back at the note. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to read it or throw it away. But it couldn't just sit there. Eventually he would have to do something about it.
“Attention,” he mumbled. “Right.”
He shook his head and walked to the liquor cabinet, opening it up and pulling out a bottle of Absolut. He noticed that it was still as full as when he last saw it, so she didn’t take the bottles with her. His lips made the briefest turn upward before going back to their default position.
Good for her, he thought.
Drinking alcohol wasn’t advisable for someone on antipsychotic medication, but he didn’t care much. And he doubted Trent would protest. He pulled the top off and took a swig, allowing the bitter taste and flaming heat to pour down his throat.
After taking a moment to recover, he looked back at Trent.
“So, what happened next?”
“So you know me. You know the rumors of my temper.”
Joe laughed involuntarily. Laughing while he felt awful always made him feel like a liar, but the statement was too ridiculous to let go without commentary.
“Rumors?” he asked while getting himself under control. Trent flipped him the bird.
“You really are a prick sometimes when I’m trying to be all philosophical and shit.” Trent laughed a bit himself. “You know maybe it was because I had fought ‘Juvi Juice’ for a few hours and was stuck on a flight from hell, but I wasn’t angry. I was confused. I was hurt. I was...I wanted to know what I did that was so wrong that she’d do this. So I did something we hadn’t done in a while. We talked. I come to find out Jennifer was miserable. She wasn’t ready to be married. I mean, we married young, but she never got to enjoy her life really. All those rich people expectations and such that you and I will never understand man. Rich people are fucking weird. She thought having the kids would help. It didn’t. And don’t get me wrong. She loves those children...She’s not spiteful, cruel, or vindictive in any way...but she was still miserable being tied down to me. And it wasn’t me either. For those three years I wore the suit. I worked for her dad’s company...Dear god I hate executives more and more each day now than those three years because at least then I could go to the old man and have him handle the stupidity. She saw when I restarted wrestling that...that I was happy. And she wasn’t. So that’s when it was over…”
Trent looked over at the letter for a moment.
“You know...at least you’ll have me here if you read that now. I know we’re not on the best of terms buddy, but I’m here for you.”
Joe glanced at the letter then back at his friend. He took another swig from the bottle.
Having someone there or not, he didn’t want to think about what cruel, poisonous things were contained in the letter. What half-truths or false narratives or sweet words that meant nothing when faced with the reality of the situation.
She was gone. Maybe he couldn’t change that, certainly not right now, but that didn’t mean he had to think about it if he didn’t want to.
“So, we’re still fighting at the PPV I guess,” he said, changing the subject. Trent looked at Joe and laughed. Thankfully, although it’s a rare occasion, Trent could take a hint from time to time.
“Yeah...we still are...but we’re good right?” Trent says gesturing to himself. “I mean I don’t want a permanent impression of your shoe on my face. I’m a pretty single billionaire after all.”
“You tell me,” Joe said. He took yet another swig. It took a lot to get him drunk, given his size, but he was finally starting to feel it. “You’re the one that got hospitalized.”
He thought for a moment, then added, “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea.”
And he really was sorry. Joe was never good at dealing with complex situations and his emotional IQ was low enough that he could probably use a few remedial classes to catch him up to the rest of the world.
“Joe Cool apologizing? Should I check for the apocalypse outside?” Trent winked at him. “Come on man. How many times have we put ourselves in the hospital doing the wrong things when for once you were trying to do the right thing. Your heart was in the right place Joe, but your head was just a bit up your ass. Trust me you're forgiven. You haven’t kidnapped my family...you’re way on the bottom of my shit list at the moment.”
Joe nodded.
“Well, then I guess we’ll work out what we need to work out at Incursion. And I’ll make you say ‘I Quit’ for the first time ever.”
He glanced at Trent, who raised an eyebrow at him, and chuckled again.
“In the meantime, since you’re here...let’s watch some fucking trash movies and get hammered.”
“Sure, but first...where’s your restroom? I gotta take a leak like a sumbitch. Damn ride over here for the airport was a nightmare.” Joe gestured to the back and then heard someone ring the doorbell. Trent slapped him on the shoulder. “Pizza’s here...you get it. I already paid for and tipped the guy more than he makes in a year.”
As Trent began a search for the restroom, Joe went to the door.
The moth had stopped fluttering. It sensed danger was nearby and without any other option, somewhere in its primitive, insect brain, playing dead was the right option. Perhaps it was because his mind was searching for a distraction, but Joe happened to glance down on the way to the door and saw it.
Without really thinking about it, he bent down and scooped it up in his hands. Seeing the broken wing, he frowned, before carrying it to the door. The moth remained motionless, but he set it down on the railing on his way downstairs to meet the delivery person.
The moth recognized that it had new surroundings only in the most basic sense. But once the threat passed, it began to crawl along its new surface and move toward an unknown future. While it wasn’t long for this world, due to the nature of its short lifespan, it wouldn’t be JC that killed it.
As it turned out, no matter what his brain would tell him later, he didn’t destroy everything he touched.
