Staring down the barrel, Shawn Michaels finds his moment of perfect clarity.
This story assumes that the Undertaker really does put people in coffins and make them go away.
It won't be long now. He'll be coming for me soon. I know I've done well in my attempts to infuriate him and my end will come quickly. Yes, my brave words were a lie. This Sunday, the Undertaker will destroy me. This is my last night on Earth.
I know now, as I kneel in prayer, what brought me to this. Some part of me knew all along and so I ask for forgiveness for the sins I commit in my heart.
I love him. I realise that now. I love John Bradshaw Layfield. Every moment, every word we spoke in our time together is etched now, permanently replaying in my memory. I thought I hated him then, I thought I heard contempt in his voice, but now, I hear the respect. Now I see the love, the injury, in his eyes each time he passes me in the hallway. I know now that it was all for me. That he did the things he did to restore my money and my pride. I laid down for him, and he laid down for me, even after I took away his dream.
I realise now how much he must love me and I begin to cry. I pray for him, in these last moments, because I cannot give him my love. I can't sin that deep, even this close to the end, I can't betray my family. I pray that he will be loved by someone who isn't like me. Someone who will be brave enough to tell him.
When I rise, I take a few long moments to ponder. Am I commiting suicide? Do I hate myself that much for loving John or for not being with him? I drop to my knees and pray one last time for forgiveness before I walk away.