The Revelry was by and large an extremely successful event.  The venue was packed, a lot of things developed, some began new chapters and some wrote their final.  The world was abuzz (no pun intended) with the XWF on their mind.  For me, it was a double edged sword.  I finally got Cypher one on one with no chance of any kind of interference.  We’d fight tooth and nail until there was an indisputable winner.

Heading into the match, I was angry.  They say that hate is a great motivator.  I didn’t and still don’t hate Tyler.  Believe me I wanted to.  Going into the Lion’s Den I had all these dreams and visions of every part of his body I was gonna hurt and how I was gonna hurt it.  After all, he deserved it.  He didn’t just betray me, his friend, a guy that took him in and welcomed him without attaching strings.  A guy that ignored his haters and defended him at every possible turn.  He betrayed a child.  A then-11 year old boy that never hurt a single person.  A boy that had gone through so much emotional trauma in his 11 years.

Frankie didn’t deserve that.

Do what you want to me.  I’m a grown ass man and I can take it.  I mean, I’m very likely gonna punch you in the mouth at every available opportunity, but I can take it.  Frankie couldn’t.  What’s more, is he shouldn’t have had to.

Something changed.

I made my way to the ring with my wife, my son, and his big ass bodyguard.  I didn’t hear the fans screaming.  I didn’t hear a word Lauren or Frankie said.  I kept looking inside the chamber at Tyler.  My friend.  A man I loved like my own kin.  I didn’t see Cypher.  I didn’t see a pro-wrestler.  I saw a scared man.  Not a man afraid of me, afraid of the pain that I might soon inflict upon him, but the fear of a boy half his age.  The young Tyler that was basically excommunicated from his own family.

When I entered the chamber and closed the door behind me, everything I had wanted to do left my mind.  I saw a man that needed help.  I saw a man that, while he certainly needed to pay for his crimes against my boy, was looking for a way back.  Tyler was looking for what he lost.

So… I kept the pods locked.  To protect him from my own anger.  Everyone that knows me knows just how emotionally volatile I can be.  I held off the pods as long as I possibly could.  When the proverbial dust settled and the smoke cleared, I nearly broke him.  In the heat of the moment, I didn’t regret spearing him off the top of the pod.  Once Frankie showed me the letter and I ended the match… I sat in the corner.  I no longer saw the man that betrayed my kid, but the man I loved like a brother.  He was hurt.  Badly, as far as I knew.

And it was my fault.

My own injuries didn’t reveal themselves to me until Seb and I wheeled Tyler to the ambulance.

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With my right arm in a sling and a crutch beneath my left, I leaned against the doorway of the master bedroom cabin aboard my jet some 35,000 feet above Utah.  Frankie was in our bed with Lauren where they’d both fallen asleep during an episode of ‘Fallout.’  A separated shoulder, a badly banged up hip, staples in the top of my head and a reluctance to swallow pain pills kept me awake.  I’d much rather be asleep with the two of them, but alas, I was wide awake.

Letting them sleep, I turned and limped my way to my office cabin and cautiously took a seat at my desk.  On its surface rested the blood stained letter that Tyler wrote to Frankie.  The very same letter Frankie gave to me near the end of the match.  I read it repeatedly.

Part of me wanted to discount it and throw it away.  He said himself he’s not a genuine person.  Anyone that knows Tyler even a little bit knows that that’s the truth.  A much larger part of me believed him.  Maybe I just wanted to believe him.  Maybe I needed to know that the man I allowed around my kids at free will really was just a troubled man that needed people like me and Lauren, like Seb and like Sloane to just… believe he was a better man than what he’s shown.

In reading his letter, it hurt my heart.  While I certainly don’t agree with his methods, I do understand him.  I’ve been exactly where he is.  I had such abandonment issues as a teen and young adult because everyone I ever loved always left me.  Some from natural causes, some by cancer, some of their own free will… and one… by suicide.

It happened so frequently that you just build a wall.  You keep everyone at somewhat of a distance so that no matter how close they get, they’re never close enough to truly hurt you when they inevitably take their leave from your life.

Lauren changed me.  No matter what I did early in our marriage the stubborn broad just wouldn’t leave.  I loved her from the moment I met her but that isn’t what changed me.  I wanted her to leave.  I wanted her to go away and not delay the inevitable.  No matter what I did or who I fucked or what I flaunted in her face… she stayed.  She sabotaged the self-saboteur by refusing to give up on me because she loved me.

A lot of people thought it was the money.  They couldn’t be more wrong.  If we lost everything, all the cars, the homes, the yacht, the planes, every last cent we had she’d stay because the life we built together, the family we’re raising together, the marriage we tore down and rebuilt… together.  Lauren MacKay, despite my faults, despite her own, changed me by staying when literally anyone else would’ve left.

There are no doubt dozens of times where I’m sure she wanted to tap out and call it a day, but didn’t.  And I would’ve deserved it.  Clearly she thought I was worth saving.

Despite what he’s done, and maybe even against my better judgment, I still believe Tyler is worth fighting for.  I’m not ready to give up on him.

Opening my desk drawer, I pulled out a pen and a Duke Industries letterhead

”Dear Tyler,” I began...