Itís the reason why I wake up in the morning. A boldness that shines in my eyes like a Hindu Goddess. A weight heavier than any precious
metal on earth. The Young Lions Cup dances in my dreams and begs to be cradled like a child. Iíve sworn to myself and to my sweetheart
that I would protect this glimmering Cup from harm.
I find myself smiling again. It was hidden underneath my anger and lashing tongue. She forced me to stand in front the mirror. There, I
saw my smile. My eyes bloomed, my cheeks rouge, my teeth pearly white. She gave me a whole new reason to live.
Donít get me wrong, folks. I worship the ground Mark walks on. No woman in her right mind would ever disagree me on his perfect anatomical
proposition. He trains every single day and every single minute if he could. He nourishes himself with all balanced nutrients (though I
could do without the tuna juice, babe.) And most importantly, his determination and powerful strength dominates all CHIKARA competitors!
That is why I aligned myself with this winner. However, idiots across the nation continue to taunt me. That buck tooth, bald-spotting,
Canadian loser has disappeared from my world forever. Heís not coming back, folks. Deal with it.
And why canít any of you comprehend how extremely happy I am? Itís growing. My love for success is growing beyond my known boundaries.
First, the Young Lions Cup. Next, the King of Trios tournament. Markís tag partners, his step-cousin-in-law-once-removed-adopted-by-Mister-Rogerís-twin-brother
and a buffoon stuck in the past, better NOT screw this up for us, particularly me.
I do feel a change. This change will be revealed during Trios. Iím ready to accept it because Mark deserves a woman who is by his side.
His trophy, or should I say OUR trophy, will not be the only gold he captures.
As for now, I stare in the mirror more than ever. I cradle it in my arms after a good shining. Mark, sweetie, love of my life,
apple of my eye, our Cup needs company and I need more smiles.