chriswaddell

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 11 - August 4, 2024: “The Descent”

Dear Canaan,

It’s been 6 days since I broke your heart and ended our relationship. I’m crumbling. I knew I would. It’s like there was no right decision to make.

I was hurting and didn’t want to let our relationship continue to drive a wedge in the love I have for you. Alas, our parting is doing it in a entirely different way.

You see, since I made that devastating call to end things, I realized that you had moved on to multiple sexual partners within hours and by now, who knows how many. It’s not my business I guess. It just makes me wonder how could someone who I loved so much have loved me as much and so quickly moved on to new intimate partners?

Plus, the secret adding of that weird guy on Snapchat that you “deleted” for me. Loving photos of nearly naked boys who I was insecure about. It’s almost as if my feelings were nothing to you or maybe since have become nothing to you.

My love shan’t subside. Even now, the reason the hurt is so bad is because I question rather you even loved me anyway. That feeling, so strong, because of how much love I still have for you. The realization that someone you love has moved on to other people of interest is sickening. It hurts, but I got what I had coming to me. It’s okay.

I traveled today for my show, alone. I locked up the venue tonight, alone. I lay here, now, alone. In tears, restless and hopeless. My body pressed warmly against two puppies that miss you terribly.

I feel lost and lied to. The pain that this break up has brought upon me is just what I deserve in life. Agony. Despair. I put on a smile for everyone. They can see right through it. How can one move forward?

Do you think about me? Moreover, do you think about me as I think about you? Fondly, warmly, intensely missing your laugh and your touch. Or do you, perhaps, think of me coldly? With hate? With regret? With anger?

I miss you and love you. Will this go away? How am I to live?

Sincerely your’s,

Chris

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 10 - December 8, 2023: “Requiem.”

I’m so fucking tired of being sad.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 9 - 55 minutes ‘til the top of the hour, midnight on November 28, 2023: “The Nevercome.”

Nevercome? That’s not even a word. What will never come?

Help, Chris. Help will never come.

You’re going to have to figure this out on your own. People want from you. Not to understand or be there, but to get. To receive. They act like they don’t… but think about this…

Who has proved through their actions that they give one little shit about you? Your mom don’t count, Chris, because she isn’t even aware of your mental state.

So, what are you going to do? Get your shit together or give up? Is it possible to do either? But you have to do one because living in this state of mind isn’t sustainable.

You’re becoming different and quiet. Almost hatful in an inward sort of way. That’s not ever what you wanted.

Help people love you again or end the shit and make more people hate you.

Either way, you know you’re a good man, so try to be happy, Chris. Fuck.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 8 - November 28, 2023: “A love letter.”

Dear Canaan,

After dropping you off at home, I quickly pulled off into the car wash parking lot a block and a half away to write you this letter.

After telling you today about my plans and asking you about what we should do or how plans should go, you offered no changes other than the potential for JC to meet you sooner to help you with your movie. I told you about a plan of taking you home and allowing you and into both work on stuff so that we had (most of) the weekend without worry. You acted like it wasn’t a problem. After I got us food and started to Evansville, you asked if I was taking you home. I, confused that you didn’t know, said yes. You became quiet, stiff and distant. I asked you if you wanted to stay instead and got nothing.

Upon pulling into your driveway, you quickly gathered your things and proceeded to leave but not before quipping “thanks for the hug and the kiss goodbye.”

I get being upset, but not when you were given options, choices and could always speak up on what you wanted to do. Literally every time we say goodbye when I’m dropping you off, we both lean over the center console and hug and kiss. You didn’t do that and instead played the card you did.

I don’t want to take blame for this one. That’s why I left your house and that’s why I’m writing this letter. Maybe I’ll read it to you. Maybe I won’t. It won’t do any good.

Last time you left me like this I waited for three hours outside your house because I felt like somehow I did something wrong. Not this time. I know I’ve done nothing wrong. And I’m way too fragile to argue about why. Especially when I don’t think you’ll get me.

I hear different versions of “if you can’t handle (this or that), we won’t work, etc etc” nearly every time we’re together. I hate that… because I feel like we can overcome anything if we’re caring for each other’s feelings. The more time progresses, the more I’m becoming concerned that your compassion for my feelings may never take precedent over you being “right.” One problem we cannot overcome if we don’t work on it is our communication issues. I do feel like they’re getting worse.

It’s going to be difficult to explain since, I feel like it’s a one-way street. I think I’ve been open and honest and up for hearing opinions. You won’t give opinions, very few suggestions, refuse to initiate anything really in regards to our relationship and then get drastically upset at me for making moves. If I’m reading this to you now, you may be rolling your eyes, laughing or snickering at my thoughts. But I feel this way. Please understand me.

It’s important that whatever our future, bright or dim, that you know not only am I wanting it to work… but I’m actively working on it, but I do feel like I’m the only one. Sometimes I think your trauma has created an un-winnable situation for us or potential future relationships. I know I’m the rebound from the last one. I know you don’t need a relationship. I know your trauma. I know your stress and I know your pressure. But I’m not trying to add to it. I’m trying to be your partner and help alleviate some of the craziness.

You’re just simply not letting me.

Sometimes, like tonight, I get the impression that you keep me around to hope I change or that I’m going to suddenly be different. Or maybe because I’ve been helping you with some things… goddamn I don’t want to think that way. It’s a pretty sickening thought.

Just know that I love you and I mean it.

Sincerely,

Your’s.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 7 - November 27, 2023: “BRIDGE”

This could, perhaps, be the most important note I’ve written.

Suicide isn’t what I thought it was. I hope people start to understand it more. Understand that it’s not some crazy person who’ve reached their wit’s end and has nowhere else to turn… so they decide to end it. Hell, even suicide prevention specialists tell you to reach out and talk to someone. But in my recent experience, my only experience ever with these types of issues, that’s not what’s going on.

Is this a suicide letter? One that I hope someone might find years after I’ve left the earth? I don’t know. But I do know how I feel and how I would like to better help people understand the non-end-of-the-world sense of this feeling.

If I were to take my own life today, I wonder what people would think? Thoughts about how unhappy I was or if my mental state was in what they deem a “positive place.” Maybe more selfish thoughts from them… “what did I do wrong?” “How could I have done something different?” Or the selfish thought that my suicide is somehow selfish itself. I mean, if we’re not entitled to leave the world how we choose, what freedoms do we really have?

My own death isn’t caused by anybody, it’s because I’m tired. Pay attention to that word, because it’s easy to make your own assumptions about what “tired” could mean. I’m not depressed, at least I don’t think I am. I’m not sure what that would feel like. I’m not tired of someone’s shit not have I been pushed in a direction of thought. No, instead, I’m just tired. Tired of fighting one day after another to make ends meet. Tired of consistently thinking about those departed. Tired of worrying about what everyone thinks about me. I’m tired of trying so hard every day to be positive and one backwards comment from someone can have me in my head for days.

Suicide isn’t a cheap or easy way out. I miss my grandma, my dad, Logan and Milo. I’ll never see them again, but I can imagine someone thinking “oh, but he did this, so I guess he won’t miss me.” That’s fair, except I won’t have to deal with it. Is that cheap or easy? Maybe. But maybe I feel like I’m owed some gratitude. The gratitude of people letting go of something I would do for myself and only myself.

People will be quick to assume that any problem I have can be simply fixed and shouldn’t have led to what could or would be inevitable. My washer doesn’t work, I’m broke and the bills continue to pile up, I live a life where I believe the only way anybody likes me is if I’m doing for them, I’m losing my memory at a rapid pace and it scares the hell out of me. I worry about losing my mom, who I often feel is the only person who doesn’t expect anything out of me.

Sometimes I think the only reason I keep going now, doing this thing we call “living,” is to try to help those I love. And honestly, the list of people I feel love for is shorter than it ever has been. I want to be there for my mom as she ages and can’t take care of herself. I want to be there for Canaan and help them anyway I can to achieve their ultimate goals of making it in the film industry. I want to be there for my friends to continue to give them a platform to live out their dreams and possibly make a big splash in the wrestling industry. I want to run this wrestling company to continue to afford an opportunity to people who otherwise wouldn’t get one. I want to never put my dogs in a position to have to wonder where I went.

So, my life now is like a bridge. These feelings I have and have had… are they potholes in my journey across troubled waters or am I reaching my destination and these feelings are the land I sink my feet into permanently?

Don’t worry, I’ll continue this in part 2 sometime down my road. 🖤

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 6 - November 9, 2023: “Stupid boy think that I need him.”

I only complain here. Sometimes when I read back the things I wrote here, I’m like: “Wow Chris, you’re a negative person.” But I write here to check myself and to vent. Have I really become the person that needs to explain myself to Tumblr?

My relationship has been wonderful. But a mild argument today has me questioning myself. Questioning my worth, my ability to be someone that anyone would want. Specially, what Canaan would want.

The title of this blog is a direct quote from one of the, at least 3, songs that Canaan has played in my truck since our argument on the way to me taking them out to dinner.

The argument was silly, but I view all arguments as such. The argument boils down to the fact we both felt disrespected by the way we spoke to each other. In the end, I apologized and Canaan practically told me to get over it (in reference to how they spoke to me).

Now, I’m not perfect and I love Canaan so much… but how are we supposed to grow from disagreements with this equation? Canaan has been helping me work on my pride. The world has broken me down pretty severely over the past 3 years or so but I’m sure I’ll post more about all that later. Prude in myself, as I’m learning from Canaan, is super important. It came as the ultimate shock and hurt when they asked me if I had “some sort of pride problem” shortly before snickering at a few things I said and even rolling their eyes.

I question if I’m the person I think I am. Am I a good man? Situations over the past five months or so have really had me questioning myself. The comfort that I’ve had for the past two months has me now questioning myself as well. **This is not their fault. It can’t be. Canaan is a drastically wonderful human being. Wonderful.** So…

Who am I? Do I even know myself anymore? What is this pain? It’s very different. Foreign to me.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 5 - September 16, 2023: “Nice Guys Finish Last.”

I feel weird writing this and if anyone saw it, it might be hard to understand with no context… but I have to get it out.

The last couple days have been pretty heartbreaking as I continue to make choices that I deem the “right thing to do” but have had significant consequences on my mental health. I’ll try to explain a couple of instances.

A few nights ago I had a conversation over the phone with a guy that I had been talking to and going on dates with. He’s from Atlanta. We’ll call him Dee. Dee wanted to know why I was being a bit more distant. I was guilty of putting a bit more space between us because I knew Dee was building stronger feelings for me and the vast distance between us would never allow for a successful relationship. So, I cleared the air with Dee that a relationship wouldn’t happen between us and that I had been sexually active with others and had been on other dates. There was no commitment between us, nor had anything became official… but in a weird way, it still felt like a break up. It hurt me so bad to break the heart of someone who had never wronged me in any way. But, despite my own sadness, I felt like it was the right thing to do.

Over the past month or so I’ve been talking to a person we’ll call Cee. Cee is nonbinary and a drag performer. An artist for whom I really enjoy the company of. Every date or hangout we shared together felt like the beginning of the rest of my life. Finally I can move on from the trauma of Logan’s death. The insecurities and feelings of worthlessness and most importantly, this dark, spiraling belief that I am destined to be alone forever. It was all letting go of it’s grip.

Every one of those giddy feelings and actions have been taking over my life. The feeling of being young, the flirting, the texts, the way we share a glance. The way their lips feel pressed against my own. The ability to relate on our lines of work. Everything has been feeling right.

Over the last couple of weeks, a few red flags were visible. “If into (their Twitter) you go, only pain will you find.” As I steal and alter one of my favorite Yoda quotes.. I’ll try to explain without great detail. On Cee’s Twitter, I found pornographic videos of them in sexual acts with men along with quite a bit if messaging spelling out the seeking of sexual attention. Knowing that someone you’re interested in has had or is having sex with other people is one thing… seeing it is one of the loneliest feelings I’ve ever had. However, the last post ask the readers something along the lines of ��Have you ever had someone treat you so good… you’re waiting for something to happen (to ruin it)?” Something like that anyway.

It made me happy to read that because I realized that Cee liked me and recognized that I was trying my hardest to be so kind to them. I feel a similar way about nervousness regarding anything potentially blossoming from this. So, I wanted Cee to know I felt similar without knowing I found their Twitter. So I sent a message after a concert I took them too where I said it makes me nervous because good things have a way not working out, etc. Cee, interestingly, instead of telling me they felt the same… argued against that stance, interestingly, because that was their stance.

It was in that concert date where I had mentioned having gone on a bad date in Nashville a while back and Cee got upset with me. Said I wasn’t doing a very good job making them feel special. (I took them to see what they professed to be the greatest concert experience they’ve ever had.) So I don’t know. It was this same trip, where again, Cee reminded me that they were afraid that I had not moved on from feelings for my (dead) ex. That is a very valid fear.

All of that sets the tone for tonight’s adventure. Last night, Cee messaged me they were freaking. Out because their ride had canceled. Leaving them without a ride to a very important booking. I stepped up. The drive is more than four hours from my house. So, I stayed up all night with a headache getting what work I could get done as I had a show this weekend. Plus, early the next day, I had to go set up for it. I moved worlds to help Cee. I got two hours of sleep before rushing to get as much set up done as possible. I ran and rushed harder than ever to get Cee to their show. I pumped more than $120 worth of gas into the truck and suffered two headaches. But it was all worth it when I saw their face again. I swooned again.

About halfway through the trip, we switched time zones and I realized my calculations were off. They would be late. As I tried to explain what I had done, Cee interrupted and said “just tell me when I’ll be there so I know what to tell them.” This hurt me honestly. I was trying my best. Now I’ve been stricken with this unimaginable guilt. I shut down temporarily. I kept mentioning the time change and apologized at least three times, never to be met comfort or even a “it’s okay.”

Those feelings let up once we were at the show. I helped them pack all their stuff in and felt VERY out of place. It was no time that Cee asked me to help put together their props and if I would help set up the stage before their set. I obliged. When this eventually happened, I felt a weird sense of anxiety. That turned out fine. At least in a couple occasions while helping set up the props or running upstairs 3 different times to help Cee, they made statements that sound in tone and context like they were giving directions to a child. I still don’t know how to feel about this.

While downstairs, before the performance, Cee alluded to my being kind to them was an act. I very seriously said it’s not and noted how difficult keeping up an act like that would be after all this time. No statement was made further about that unfortunately. Before the performance, two of Cee’s drag companions were in the bathroom talking to Cee about how good looking I am and making what I thought were funny quips about “liking me.” I just ignored it. Cee hugged me with their body pair on and I reached up and dusted my shoulder off. They saw me and claimed that that’s a test. I guess insinuating that their significant other must not have to wipe away the flakey leftovers from their body paint??Later, after the performance, we were leaving I had both hands and arms filled with Cee’s belongings. It was loud due to a performance, it was dark and the walkway was extremely cramped. As we were going through Cee stopped for 2 seconds and said goodbye to a drag Queen that looked like the person that booked them to be in the show. I heard the booker thank Cee and Cee back. As I was walking by them, they patted me on the butt and said thank you.

I told Cee about it. And Cee brought up these people flirting with me and how I should’ve done something about it. Claiming again that I had failed this test. Going as far to say that their ex, Kevin “even knew to stop it.” What was I supposed to do? I was walking out the door. Following Cee. Hands full. And to bring up how your ex passed this test that I somehow failed… comparing my actions against his, while voicing how fearful you are being put up against the memory of Logan?! That’s not fair to me. At all.

Tonight, I was shown a side of Cee that not empathetic, not understanding, not gentle and showed no gratitude whatsoever. It frightens me. I really like them. Please tell me this is an off day and not an ongoing personality trait of them. I fall fast and hard and I don’t want to be broken again.

(I’m sorry for the longest run on sentence ever. I needed to write this and get it out. I have no one else to vent to. I’m alone.)

[chriswaddell]

Moments in time, single grains of sand

You’re the flower that blooms across this barren land.

With you I’ll rest, look ahead just to see

Glimmers of light, but I know this cannot be.

For without you I’m left, brows beaded with sweat

It was nice just to see you, the unloveable you’ve met.

This journey; I do, as I do, as I can

Let them say of my life, this, a good man.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 4 - May 2, 2023: “A Date With Agony.”

I have a date in two days with this guy named Jacob. We send a couple messages back and forth every day. He’s super attractive. I’m taking him to a Janet Jackson/Ludacris concert in Nashville, where he lives. There’s part of me that feels like I’m putting too much mental stock in this. Like wanting desperately for something to work with someone who I haven’t even met.

Let’s reel it in for a minute. In 2018, 2019 and 2020… I experienced some form of growth. Setbacks, sure. But growth. For the past three years I’ve experience nothing but loss. My grandmother, Logan and a little over a month ago, Milo, my sweet dog of 16 years.

Because of the state I’m in emotionally. Mentally. I’m not sure if I’m making the right choices. I’m doubting my own feelings everyday. In the case of this date, like, I almost feel as if I NEED this guy to fall in love with me. That’s crazy! I know it is. But I long so much to have my person again. Someone who I can share experiences with. Take trips and share our desires together.

I used to be so good at this. To communicate and set realistic goals and at times, boundaries. But I feel as if I’m not that person anymore. Can you imagine needing from someone something to fill a void left there by another? That’s not quite fair to anyone. It is what it feels like I’m doing though.

I could also be overthinking this. I mean, we may not even be compatible. However, I do worry that desperation might set in if we’re not. I’m tired of feeling alone.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 3 - March 9, 2023: “Living A Tragedy”

We’re slowly approaching a year since Logan’s death. I’ve realized over the last month, maybe more, that I’m no better off. The healing hasn’t been done. Is it ever?

I’m probably as lonely as I ever have been. In the past, when I didn’t have a “significant other” I still found myself surrounded by friends. It isn’t like that now. Don’t get me wrong, I have more friends than I can keep track of… but there is a constant feeling of loneliness. The closer friends I keep have their own lives, of course. But it’s like I can find mine.

Plus, there’s a sense of constant tragedy in my life. Like, it’s the story I’m telling myself. In 2020 it was keeping my business afloat by ruining myself financially and destroying parts of my credit that I had worked so diligently to raise. In 2021, my grandmother passed away and with that death, my family hasn’t been, now will be again, whole. In 2022 it was Logan’s death that forever changed me (I’m sure I’ll write more about that soon). This year, Milo is likely to suffer his own fate. I’d not want sympathy. As a matter of fact, that’s the last thing I want. I think I want a life to share with someone who can not only tell me it’ll be okay, but make me feel that.

Without that, right now… I feel a perpetual sense of tragedy in my life. Because I know this, I think it may be time to switch things up. Idk. A different way of thinking maybe. So many things in my life have died and it’s up to me to make myself feel alive again. Now… to figure out just how to do it.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 2: February 15, 2023 - “Dog Gone.”

How can I possibly say goodbye to my oldest friend? Milo turns 16 this year. He can’t walk. He’s almost completely blind and deaf. He can hear certain tones and see a bit out of his left eye. Because of his inability to get around, he wears a diaper and has to be administered pain medicine pretty regularly.

I constantly question whether or not I am ready for the inevitable. His inevitable death. I question if I can be the one to make the decision to put him down if it comes to it.

I would’ve never guessed that he and I would be in this position when I got him in 2007. Isn’t this what I want though? I mean, he’s lived a good life. He was the smartest dog I’ve ever known of. Not just saying that. His slow deterioration as opposed to getting sick or injured and dying young. Isn’t that what I want?

It is. But it’s hard to know his struggle right now.

I now have Ripley as well, my nearly three year old. Sometimes I feel guilty because I’m almost certain that having her will make Milo’s death more bearable and much less lonely.

I type my thoughts and I’m not quite sure where they’re going. I think I just want Milo to know how much I love him and how much I have for 16 years. He’s done so much more me mentally; his worth has been invaluable. The goodbye is going to be so difficult, but I am doing my best to ready myself.

[chriswaddell]

BLOG 1: February 14, 2023 - “Love Me Alone, Valentines’s Day.”

The attempt to keep a positive mindset can be so tedious. My mind tells itself: life isn’t hard, smile a little more! Followed closely by the feeling of dread. The feeling of spending my first Valentine’s Day alone since 2014. The feeling of approaching one year since the death of my love.

Currently, there’s a woman here in my town that I really like. She’s beautiful and quirky and possibly a match with me mentally. Possibly. There’s a guy in Florida who is amazing in many ways. Almost intimidating in his achievements and goals and beauty. There’s also a guy in Louisiana who is gorgeous and the sweetest. They make an effort to message me almost daily. Why must these people live so far away. It’s like torture.

Others that I have had interest in include a couple of women who either gives her attention to every swinging desperate dick on social media or one who just recently got into a relationship. That also seems to be the issue with a couple of guys I’ve had interest in too. They either end up being in a relationship or showing no interest in me at all.

I’m a pretty rational thinker. I think I’m a pretty decent catch. Of course there’s no movie star good looks here and I live pretty simple… but I also think, we’ll, I’ve got my head on straight and can be independent which allows me to also take care of a potential significant other. Am I intimidating or just the type of very VERY few?

Let me clarify, I’m not desperate. Not at all. I’m sexually active and feeling good about life. But I’m also ready to take trips with romance. Cruises, theme parks, concerts, etc. I am ready and yearn for the chance to share these experiences with someone soon.

I could go on and on, but if you’re life is just boring enough that you find yourself ready this… I’ll keep you updated with additional blogs about my life.