Emerge 33

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January 1st, 2020

New York City

Off Camera

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Sometimes I look out in amazement and awe…

Amazement that the human race has created such inventions and structures…

Amazement that the human race has achieved such awesome feats…

Awe that the human race can still be so pathetic…

We are truly brilliant…

Despite our brilliance we are weak…

Weak because we take the tiniest of things for granted…

Be thankful…

Thankful that you have an identity…

Some out there are no one...

No body…

Nothing…

The bar where I find myself is practically empty.  The New Year of 2020 has just begun an hour ago, I thought this place would still be full and yet many of those who stayed to ring in the new year quickly left as soon as the clock struck midnight.  Only a few remain.  Just a few bikers, some dudes who are close to passing out, and a few guys who are married.  I can tell they are married because of the rings on each of their fingers.  Why are they still here?  From what I’ve observed they’re here to stay away from their wife, kids, their family in general.  Are they just sick of their lives or did they royally screw up and are afraid to go home?  I don’t really know nor do I care to know.  I have problems of my own.  The worst part of it is that I feel completely helpless and utterly alone.  I feel as if no one wants to help and that no one could help even if they wanted to.

“Penny for your thoughts, ‘Nigma?”

Ok, so I was wrong.  I grin as I turn  my attention to a brown haired woman slightly older than I am approaching me.  Her name is Annette and she is the only one who respects me enough to call me by the one and only name I feel comfortable with…

...The Enigma…

My real name is Julia Boleyn but I prefer The Enigma because I truly am an enigma.  My husband...his name is Matt, by the way...says I like the name because it was the name I went by as a professional wrestler.  Imagine my surprise when I learned that I was a wrestler.  I like the name Enigma because it seems appropriate considering the fact that I have no clue who the hell I am.

Or what I am…

So why not call myself The Enigma?  I am an enigma to myself.  At least I know who Annette is.  I met her in the psychiatric ward where we both were patients.  According to my husband I had a complete mental breakdown and there was no choice but to commit me to an insane asylum.  Is “insane asylum” too harsh for you?  Tough.  It is an insane asylum and I call a spade a spade.  My last real memory was waking up in the insane asylum.  I had regular visits from Matt, but I had no fucking clue who he was.  Slowly I got to know him but it didn’t help our marriage.  He could tell me as many times as he wanted that we were married and we were deeply in love but I still didn’t feel it.  Hell, there was a lot about my life my husband told me but I never understood any of it.

He and the doctors hoped that showing me videos of my past, a past that included wrestling events and family time with Matt, would spark my memory.  But it did nothing to help.  They’re just flashes, like a movie reel.  I am completely disconnected from those memories emotionally.  I can see that the woman in the videos are me.  But my mind says “no”...my mind doesn’t remember any of it...Matt is still a stranger.  The only thing I am convinced of is my past as a wrestler.  I seem to be a natural at it.

Annette, though, is no stranger.  She was a fellow patient also suffering from memory loss.  We bonded over our shared problems.  We quickly grew to become much more than that, as evidenced by the kiss that I plant on her lips.  Now, as we lock lips, we have no qualms.  When our relationship first began there was some guilt on the part of Annette.  She knew about Matt.  She didn’t want to break us apart.  I have no qualms.  I still feel no emotional connection to him, so why should I feel guilty?

“You’re the only good thing in my life.  You know that?”

“Thanks, ‘Nigma.  I do what I can.  But you gotta be exaggerating…”

“I wish I were, I wish I had something to be happy about but as far as I know my life began several months ago when I met you.  Everything else about my life is just a god damn slide show.”

“Your hubby is trying to help, isn’t he?” Annette points this out in the form of a question, hoping in vain to try and find something I’ll be happy about.  This doesn’t work, because I still have no emotional connection to him.

“Matt?  I feel nothing for that asshole.” A sigh escapes my lips. “I really don’t want to go back home to that fucker.”

“Then don’t.” Annette reaches out and clasps my hands tightly. “You can hang at my place, y’know?  If you really feel that way about your hubby then dump him.”

“I can’t.” I shake my head which causes disappointment to wash over Annette.  She already knew the answer before she proposed this; I can’t blame her for trying though.  But we’ve been over this before.

“It makes logical sense for me to kick the jackass to the curb.  But there is evidence that he is right, that we are married...evidence like photographs from our wedding, home videos from times past…” a sigh escapes my lips “...besides, I do sense that he is only trying to help.”

“Whatever.” Annette flags over the bartender who comes over to us.  “Bring us two beers, dude.”

The bartender nods and walks away to fill the order.  Annette turns back to face me. “Just remember, the offer is always open.”

“Oh I know.”

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A Few Hours Later

Off Camera

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Love is never simple…

Love can be wonderful and it can be painful at the same time…

Love is not instant…

Love is a marathon…

If you are not prepared for all the baggage…

You do not deserve love…

I am not drunk.  At least I would not say that I am drunk.  I have had enough to drink over the New Year’s celebration to know that I should not drive, so I had to call an Uber to get a ride back Matt’s home.

Yeah, MATT’S HOME…

He insists that it is my home too and, yes, I do live there so technically you could say that it is my home as well.  But I still  have no memories of the place, I have no emotional connection to it despite all of the evidence to the contrary.  And I have no emotional connection to Matt, my supposed husband.  He only wants to help, I do get the feeling that he is sincere in his desire to help me.  But he can be a little too persistent, frustratingly impatient in his desire to see a change in my attitude.

I stumble up the sidewalk towards the front door of my husband’s apartment.  Yes, I am stumbling, but not due to drunkeness.  I just haven’t slept in a long time.  I’m exhausted, my body is ready to give out.  I try the doorknob and find it is locked.  I fumble around in my pocket for my key but just as I find it the lights in the home come on.  I hear footsteps approaching and then the door unlocking. The door opens up and I spot my husband standing there with a disappointed frown upon his face.

“It’s about time.”

“Great to see you too, Matt.”

He holds out his hand, he is assuming that I need help but I reject his offer.  I walk on past him and into the home.  Matt shuts the door and then follows me into the living room where I collapse onto the sofa.  Matt stands over me and stares judgmentally.

“Did you have fun?”

“Oh yeah, loads…” my voice is a slur.  I know why he thinks I’m drunk…

“You had me worried, Julia.  Please do not do that to me again.”

“Deal...but only if you quit calling me Julia…”

Matt rolls his eyes. “Julia…”

“Enigma.”

“JULIA!” He raises his voice ever so slightly to get my attention. “You were lucky to get out of that mental hospital.  The doctors had every reason to keep you locked up but they let you go.  If you continue to insist upon being called Enigma instead of your real name then you may get locked back up.”

“You told me Enigma was my wrestling name.”

“That’s right.” He nods his head.  “A RING NAME!”

“It isn’t unheard of for a wrestler to legally change their name to their ring nickname.” A smirk forms upon my face.  I can tell that Matt isn’t very pleased with my answer but he knows I’m right.  He shakes his head.

“A technicality.  But I seriously thought we had been through this and settled this at the mental hospital, you are my wife.  Your name is Julia.”

“And I told you that while my mind knows it, my heart is still not convinced.  I see all of the evidence proving that you are right but I have no emotional connection to any of it.  I do not even know if I truly am Julia Boleyn.  I do not know who the hell I am, Matt…maybe I never will…”

As I gaze upon the features of my husband I can see the sincere look of disappointment fall across his face.  Should I have said that?  It was harsh but it was the truth.  I do not know who I am.  Matt does have solid evidence that the logical part of my brain tells me I can and should trust but then again, you can doctor anything nowadays with the technology we have.  Is that paranoia?  It is, but it is also the truth.  I am paranoid.  Very paranoid.  But just because I am paranoid doesn’t mean that I am wrong to distrust this person, this “Matt” who claims to be my husband.

“Matt, I’m sorry.  It’s just hard for me right now.”

“No need to apologize.” He shakes his head. “I understand…”

“No, you don’t.” I snap back at him angrily.  He arches his brow, surprised at my response.

“Ok, I don’t; but I do want to help and hopefully getting you back into your regular routine will kickstart your memory.  Are you ready for England?”

I sigh before sitting up.  When he says ‘England’ he is referring to my debut in Emerge.  I did not want to work for Emerge.  I definitely didn’t want to work for Emerge after getting a look at the three owners.  Used car salesmen appear more trustworthy than those snakes.  Matt insists that I get back to my ‘old routine’ and while I truthfully do not know what my old routine was he says that I was a wrestler and so I should wrestle somewhere.  Emerge was his idea, not mine.  ‘A fresh start’ is what he called it.  Matt sits down next to me on the sofa and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.  Annabelle Burchard is her name, right?”

“Your first opponent, yes.” Matt answers, nodding his head.

“I doubt kicking someone’s ass will jog my memory but hey…” I shrug my shoulders “...nothing else has worked, why not?”

I stand up and start to make way towards the guest bedroom.  Matt calls it the guest bedroom but I call it my bedroom.  I enter the bedroom and just as I lie down on the bed I sense that I am not alone.  I turn to find Matt has followed me inside.  I frown.

“Anything else you want?”

“I was hoping we could sleep together tonight.”

“Matt, don’t make me do this…” my voice trails off.

“Do what?  We’re husband and wife, Julia.  We’re married.”

“But I have no emotional connection to you!” I shout angrily with vitriol in my voice. “Sleeping with you...or having sex with you which is probably what you actually want...would be like having sex with a complete stranger!”

“Julia…”

“NO MEANS NO!”

I did not mean to get that loud or that angry.  But I maintain my intense look of anger.  Matt sighs and  shakes his head with disappointment. “Ok, whatever you say, Julia.”

Matt turns and walks away, making his exit.  Once he is gone I bury my face in my pillow and begin to cry.

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On Camera

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Annabelle Burchard…

I envy you; really, I do.  You have so much to thankful for and you don’t even realize it.  You may not think so, you may say I’m crazy for envying the daughter of a serial killer who has a reputation for being vicious and violent but if you will just sit back, relax, and listen for a brief moment, then I will hit you with some reality and that reality is that while you do not necessarily like your past, at least you HAVE a past and you are aware of your past so that you can either choose to embrace or atone for it.  Your choice.

I am an Enigma, Burchard.  I am an Enigma to you, to the fans, hell even to myself.  Each and every day that goes by I want to learn more about who I am but none of it is available.  I do not have a past to embrace, nothing to atone for.  I’m nothing.  I’m just here.

The one advantage I do have over you is called a clean slate.

Tabula rasa is the theory that individuals are born without built-in mental content and that therefore all knowledge comes from experience or perception.  I do not have to concern myself with being judged about who I was or what I have done, nor do I have to worry about a reputation garnered from an infamous family.  All I have is me, myself, and I and that’s all I need to survive.  That is all I need to make a name for myself.

Supposedly I have wrestled before.  Hell, you may have done your work and might even mention some of my past.  Go for it.  I saw that person wrestle; I watched the tapes.  That person was a tag team champion for nine months in Global Championship Wrestling.  That person moves like me, fights like me, and damn sure looks like me.

But that person is not me.  And if it was me, then it is not me anymore.  You’re going to be the first of many to get to know the brand new Enigma of Emerge.  So maybe I should take my own advice and be thankful for the few things I do have in my life.  At least I have a tabula rasa, I have the blank slate so many wish they had, yourself included.