Toe to Toe; I am

Toe to Toe; I am

We stood there toe to toe; the beginning of the tenth and final round. I had taken a beating and gave a beating, and now I am out of gas. I didn't know if I could handle another round, but I would try. I couldn't give up now. Not after coming so far. Not after training so hard.
My heart was beating fast, and my adrenaline pumping hard. I closed my eyes hard and opened them again. It was time to face reality. Yeah, he is a stronger, faster fighter than me, but I've got will. I've got grit and heart. Something he lacks.
-Ding ding ding- the bell sounds, signaling the start of the round. I took a few steps toward him. A right, a left, another right. I was getting pounded again. I swing, but miss. I try again, and connect with his glove. I get popped by another left. Blood is running down my face. I close my eyes hard again and look through it at my opponent.
Left, left, right, left, right. I get hit by another flurry. I swing and miss again, and he follows hard with a left haymaker. Everything goes blurry. Spinning. Shaking.
I see stuff now. But it is not the fight. It is old stuff. I see my parents, standing in the crowd for my first fight. My girlfriend right by the ring, cheering me on. Not caring whether I win, but whether I am going to be okay.
My focus comes back now. Something inside me sparked when I saw my girlfriends face. I had to win. For her. For me. To prove to people. To prove to myself. Eye of the Tiger starts playing in my head as I stare down my opponent. I see a smirk come across his face. I clench my teeth and let loose hell. Rights, lefts, upper cuts. Punches flying every which way. Punches hitting him everywhere. It seemed like an eternity that I had been punching him, but it was really less than a minute.
I stop punching and watch as he falls to the ground. He is knocked out and doesn't get back up. Tears roll down my face, but I try and make it seem like sweat. I wipe the blood and tears off at the same time as I turn around to see her running across the ring to me. I hold her in my arms and whisper that I love her.
After it all, I sit in the locker room, my girlfriend beside her. I tell her how I saw her, and how she gave me hope and strength. I tell her how I was scared. I give her a kiss and get up with my bag. We walk out of the building together, hand in hand. That would be my last fight. I proved to the world who I was. But more importantly, I proved to myself. And nothing was going to take that away...