I stayed up all night, lying in bed. I just listened to Helena's breath. That's all I did...just think. I didn't want to disturb her...she seemed so serene. I got to thinking.

What made me so content with just..."getting by"? Why was I, Jonathan Daniel Collins, willing to settle for less?

Think about it with me...c'mon, it'll be fun. In less than a year, I won the Canadian Title, King of Violence, the World Title, and I beat Big Nose three times. That's a whole lot of accomplishments for a guy who had to compete against Big Nose, Michael Trey, Gavin Coens, Tempest, Chris Davison, J. Simon Rykopathe, and a laundry list of stars.

My name was up in lights...I was at top billing.

So why was I willing to play the co-star?

It almost seems apropos that the line on my visual reads "Sick of Myself...". After all, I'm exactly that. Sick of myself. Sick of letting myself slide by, because I think I can. It's thoughts like that, that ruin you. Have I been ruined? Quite possibly. I've settled into this little rut known as the North American Title. Such illustrious names as Inferna, Jon Fuller, and Greg Bowman have held it! Anyone noticing a trend? This is the equivalent of giving Sean "Puffy" Combs a suit bought at Sears to wear.

I guess it's just the common physics of stardom. What goes up...right?

Can you imagine how loud Lance Sterling is laughing? Here's the guy who ripped him a new asshole, and now I'm next to nothing. He must be so proud to know he lost to a jobber. Tempest must be pleased to know she lost her title to a curtain jerker.

So now I sit, wait...one more punchline for the gods of Olympus to tell.

There wasn't a big boom. There was no triumphant requiem for the career of the "Next Big Thing". I bet you can't remember the night I won the North American Title. I bet you don't remember what I've done since then, either. The most unforgettable face in the HWF in 2001, has become 2002's "Where Are They Now?" star. So what the hell happened? Who am I?

People spent their fifty dollars to come to the arena to hurl garbage at me. They'd chant "Backdoor Boy" at me. Then they paid money to adore and worship me. I was their diety, and I had them chomping at the bit. I was everything they wanted to be. Now I am nothing to them. I am an afterthought.

I am Jonathan's sense of forgetfulness.

And you wonder why I'm always in a bad mood.

At this point in time last night, Helena rolled over and reached out to hold me. She curled up against me, and whispered "Mmm...Jonathan..." before drifting back off into REM sleep. REM sleep. Remember that? Wonderland. That had you all on the edge of your seats, waiting to see what would happen, and who would be in my little world.

My world is my hell. Welcome to it...won't you stay for a cup of tea? A brief chat? A chance to reminisce?

So she curled up and burrowed her head into my shoulder. I think that was a moment of clarity for me. Maybe this might be what I've needed. Maybe being bound by this chain of a title could be what I need to make things work in my little world. It's that whole idea that I heard in a movie once. I remember the night we had Josh, Michael, Darrin, Gavin, Shawn, and myself over. We ordered a bunch of pizzas, a couple of kegs, and this stuck out in my mind.

"It's only after you've lost everything, that you're free to do anything."

I went around like a madman trying to find the actual book by Chuck Palahniuk. Michael got sick of me going to every Borders in every town and gave it to me. I read it like a bible. That's what kept me in motion. Reading it, taking some of the words into heart...and I was a new man.

After all..."if I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?"

Worked for me.

What I've done to burn down my ivory tower will never be taken back. The memories will remain as its ashes, and I'll have to remember. It's my punishment.

So I won't regret. I won't look at this as failure.

I'll make lemonade from these lemons, by golly...and it's going to be good lemonade! Would you expect anything less from me?

Welcome to my hell...rent's $650 a month. Utilities are extra, but you get a great view of the towering inferno of my career!

But then there's that promise. When I looked downwards and saw her still curled up against me, a serene smile coming across her lips (or maybe it was just the light reflecting, I'll never know)...I remembered that I wouldn't let her down. I swore to it. It comes with that whole wedding vow shit.

I am Jonathan renewed sense of spirit.

And I am still falling.

So I finally decided to get to sleep. I figured I finally could. I've managed to convince myself that what I'm in store for isn't so bad. I figured that I've earned what's coming to me right now, and I'll have to earn all that good stuff all over again.

I have to put on a smile. I have to march out there this weekend against Norris Scott and accept my destiny. I'm going to make the most of it...but is this really what I want? This is a double edged dagger. Win, and I keep myself bound in this madness. Lose, and I fall farther. I look at her again, and I think she finally realizes I'm not asleep. She looks up at me.

"Sweetie...you need your sleep."

"Nah, Hel...I'm just thinking. You relax...I swear I'll be fine."

"Okay, baby...*kisses his cheek*...just don't stay up all night. I want to go down to the beach tomorrow."

"Of course, Helena...anything for you."

Wow...I certainly like saying that these days, don't I? "Of course Mac...I'll take a dive for that no talent chump, Davison." How about "Of course William...I'll flounder around until you think it's my time again."

How about I tell you when it's my time?

How about I tell you to fall down?

I'll do it one more time for you...and then...

...it's my time...

Because quite frankly...I'm sick of myself...but even more sick of all of you.