Blair's Life

On the door of my bathroom wall in my old house, I drew and stuck five figures of all of the boys. I remember when moving, I tried to peel them off to take them with me to my new place. Why this memory is so vivid in my mind right now is that when I tried to peel each of them out, Liams Head got stuck on the wall, and the paper ripped like dried leaf in my hand, leaving a headless body of the young man I adored. I remember cracking jokes with my friends at that time, saying "I killed Liam Payne" in mock sadness.

It's a memory from five to six years ago, and now, as I sit on my balcony, trying to comprehend what has happened, I feel the resedue of that paper like blood on my hands.

What is surprising to me how utterly calm yet defeated i feel right now. I'm mourning. I know that I am. But more than mourning the loss of the boy that was once a part of my whole world, I'm mourning the loss of my younger self. That fifteen year old Sam would lose her shit right now if she was here. And it took me this long to finally realise that she is dead. She has been dead for a while now it seems. I can't think of any other reasons I feel so void of it all.

Underneath this layer of numbness, all I can feel is red hot anger. At the world, at the people that boy choose to surround himself with and at the boy himself for making mistakes over and over again. But that's what he was in the end wasn’t he? Just a boy. Just a little boy who didn’t get the chance to grow out of being seventeen, didn’t get the chance to have a childhood, didn’t get the chance to breathe or learn from everything.

The world had done him dirty by giving him everything he could ever ask for and taking away what he needed. And I was right there, watching, cheering him on without realizing what he was losing. Some miseries can only be repaid with death, and he repaid his just last night, around the same time I was wide awake listening to songs that weren’t his, he was out there taking his last breath and falling over the railing. The parallels are astonishing. I was sitting on my balcony too, while he was falling off of his. And maybe it happened at the same time I lit a fire to light up a cigarette when he extinguish his own.

My darling baby. My sweet little angel with eyes that reminds me of autumn leaves. You were fucked up. Broken and battered. Flawed to the nines and destructive and devious. But you were never beyond redemption. Never beyond remedy and never beyond saving. Yet, we failed to save you all the same. I wonder how you felt when you laid on that cold concrete as the blood rushed to your head. The thoughts that rippled through your mind like water, I wonder what you saw in those very last moments. I can't imagine how lonely you must have felt, how utterly defeated and devastated. Maybe you gasped for one last breath, realizing how big of a mistake it was like we all do when the first slash of a knife that hits too deep on our wrists. I wish I was there to hold your hand when you let go. I wish that I could save you.

I never got to own a band merch you know? Never could afford a cd, or a poster with all of your faces on it. Never could attend a concert of buy a song from itunes. And with this, the chance of me ever getting to see you shining bright on stages also shattered to pieces. I cannot attend a concert where you will not be there with the boys, Liam. It will never be the same.

If only this world weren’t this brutal and ugly with you. If only you’d have gotten more time and better people around you, if only you’d have had someone near you that cursed night....so many if onlys.

Did you know, you’ve not aged a single day beyond seventeen in my head?

Rest in peace, my sunshine.

You'll always be forever young. Now and forever. I will never forget you.

If you are still being salty over what Roman said in that Vanity Fair interview, you’re opening your mouth about “why does he have to be so attractive” when he’s on your TV, you’re celebrating a curb stomp when it completely comes from a place of believing he deserves violence for what he said, you’re chastising others for supporting him, and you’re continuing to miss the point of what he said…

…then you are the problem. Not Roman.

You need to develop critical thinking skills and really think about what it was he said there. But if you’re still missing it, let me break it down.

Roman was unnecessarily asked his opinion on the political climate in America. The journalist included that there was a pause before the answer.

That pause is important.

Because it’s an indication that he was about to tread on the topic lightly. And he did.

He did not give a political answer. He gave a politically correct answer, wherein he stayed pretty neutral because that was what was going to protect him the most.

He said he supports the presidency, the institution, as opposed to Trump specifically.

He said supports a successful future for the country, which is not the equivalent of saying he thinks Trump is going to provide that. It does not automatically mean he thinks in all these extreme ways that you’re brainwashed into believing it does.

He said he definitely does not agree with everything the current president does.

Then, and this is important, he started talking about the celebrity aspect of Donald Trump. That’s the part Roman is more comfortable talking about. The business of PR, of creating adversaries.

He avoided the political talk completely. He never confirmed who he actually voted for. And his answer was intelligent, wary, and was the best one he could have given in the position he was put in.

Not everything is black and white, and it seems like most of you need to understand that.

You can say you’re disappointed, but I’d argue it’s more disappointing to see people online, people you thought highly of, explicitly reduce this situation to him being ‘just a man’ or just ‘someone with money.’ And then go on to bring race into it, specifically his wife and children, when that has ZERO relevance to anything he said in the article.

And then… to bring up that he is mixed race. To bring up the white in him. Which… never mattered before, in fact y’all never addressed it before, you actually kind of “put up” with it.

But all of a sudden, it matters that he’s half white? Because it’s convenient? Make that shit make sense.

If anyone is perpetuating stereotypes, compartmentalising how people of different races and backgrounds should believe (and that anything different is groundbreaking and unheard of), it’s you.

Roman Reigns—Joe Anoa’i is not a bad person. It is unfair to judge that based on a small paragraph in one interview, when you’ve dedicated much more of your time to other media that you enjoyed him on when he’s been himself and not the character. You already knew him, and he’s the same fucking guy he was this time last week.

Also remember that Punk is fine working with him, and Sami Zayn is essentially family. If he was what he’s being called, I don’t think that would be the case.

Literally me now EVERY SINGLE time my ADHD distracts me from my current task: