The roar of the crowd’s cheers buzzes across my skin and blocks out any other sounds or thoughts.
Only as I look down over my friend—who is still writhing in “pain”—do I make one final symbolic gesture. Slowly and with intention, I peel my mask back and off my face. The noise in the arena hits a deafening decibel, and I finally grin.
Then I turn and toss the mask toward my girl. She catches it and, without hesitation, pulls it over her face before standing up, clapping in time, and joining the crowd in their cheers.
I laugh, because suddenly, I’m back in that unfinished basement chasing Tabitha around. She’s laughing, wearing my mask and my ring. And it feels just as thrilling. I’m even more obsessed with her now than I was then.
As I take my last leap from the top rope, an entire lifetime of adventures flashes before my eyes.
I’ve been a lot of things in my life. Traveled a lot of places too.
But now I’m not just a wrestler. I’m a dad, I’m a friend, and I’m a husband to Tabitha Garrison, the mega-hot brunette who makes the best carbonara in the world.
And it strikes me that this is my favorite thing I’ve ever been.