Expectations in your life just lead to giant disappointments.
Could one die from disappointments? How about uncontrollable sadness? Could someone cry so much they drowned in their own tears? Or were these only hopes I clung to before I fell asleep at night? Hope. It is a useless feeling, one I have learned to never trust. Hope only caused disappointments. I was tired of being let down.
I stared at the note my mother had left me: Can’t make it home in time for our dinner. Rain check?
We had had this dinner planned for a week. It was supposed to be our little mother daughter night to bond and catch up on everything. I was hoping to talk to her about letting me try out for basketball try-outs in a couple weeks. Coach wouldn't let me try out until I got my parents' permission.
I crumpled up the note, throwing it back onto the counter before I headed out the door. Zipping up my jacket, I kept my head down and threw my hood up. One foot in front of the other, I made myself head to the school. But, as I walked, I thought about how easy I could end everything right now by stepping off the curb into the traffic. This suffering could stop. This pain would desist.
I was such a coward. I couldn't even take one measly step forward. What was wrong with me? It would be so easy. Over in a few short seconds. No one would miss me. In fact, it might make life a bit easier for everyone who knew me. But, something kept me back. I was scared. Scared to make that first step.
Walking into the school, I went about my usual routine. I went directly to the gym where I could shoot some hoops and do my morning workout. I did some suicides. They were my favorite if only because I couldn't actually go through with the actual act. Oh, how irony loved me. The pain in my legs as I pushed myself faster and harder was something I relished. Some people cut to forget their emotional pain. Me? I ran to forget.
As I pushed off to go back to the baseline, the turn caused a twinge of pain to shoot through my knee, and I had to slow down, to stop. This pain wasn't one I could push through and justify. If I hurt my knee even further, I wouldn't get to be on the team this year. And, I wasn't about to let that happen. I needed basketball. It was the only thing I did that I felt really at home doing.
Heading into the locker room, I ignored the stares I always got, the whispers. I brushed passed a few of the girls that were gossiping at the entrance. Couldn't they do that at home or at their own lockers? Did they have to talk about people? What did it matter? Why did it bother them? I went to my locker and grabbed my shower caddie before heading into the showers.
Undressing quickly, I turned the water on and as the water heated up, I let the ice cold water hit my skin, causing shivers to run up and down my back and arms and legs. The water wasn't getting warm very fast, so I just started washing myself.
People could hate me all they wanted, but they couldn't deny my talent. On the court, I was number one. On the court, I was the best of the best. On the court, everyone was scared of me. On the court, I made everything look graceful and easy. I knew what I was doing. It was like second nature. It came easy and natural.
Off the court, I was disliked because I kept my distance from people. They couldn't disappoint me that way. They couldn't break my heart. Off the court, I was mediocre at best. People made fun of me for being a loner. They weren't scared of me, nor did they respect me. I was a bit awkward and naive. I had no clue what I wanted out of life nor did I know how to give my life direction or purpose.
I loved who I was on the court. I hated myself off the court. I was two totally different people. I had no idea how to bring my two sides together and be a cohesive unit. I suppose that was the journey of life. To figure it out. People said it wasn't supposed to be easy. That life was hard. Well, that was about as real as it got with me.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"Okay, Elijah, times up, you can go," my therapist came over and removed the ice bag from my knee, which was suspended in midair. My heel was stuck in a block a foot off the ground. It was helping straighten my knee. It's what always hurt the most. But, I was getting there. I was centimeters from being straight.
"Thanks, Megan." I get off the cot, letting my knee get used to being bent again after ten minutes of being suspended in midair like that. It was a bit stiff. I made my way outside to wait for my ride. Dad was supposed to be picking me up tonight since mom had canceled our plans.
I waited for thirty minutes; I waited until the sun went down and I was blanketed in darkness save the lights illuminating out of the therapy center. I waited until I figured out Dad had forgotten about me. Nothing new there; it happened nearly every time. I should really always just start walking home anyway without the waiting. Would make life less boring.
I was a few miles from home, so it would take an hour to get home by walking, but I didn't have any money on me, so I wasn't going to be able to hail a cab or to get on the bus. I had to walk. If I hadn't forgot my cellphone at home this morning, I could have called him. But, that was my own fault. Here was my punishment.
I didn't mind walking anyway. Especially at night. The moon was always so pretty. I couldn't see the stars, but I liked to pretend I could. The night was always much more peaceful than the day.
I was no more than a few blocks from home when I noticed a bum on the street. He struck me as odd because he had the longest, brightest orange hair I had ever seen. It reminded me of the orange fur alley cats always had. He didn't look much older than myself. I had no choice but to walk by him unless I wanted to cross the street, which I didn't really want to do. I figured he couldn't harm me.
As I got nearer, he looked up at me, and I saw such pain in his eyes that for a moment, I thought I was looking into my own eyes. I stopped dead in my tracks, directly in front of him. I wasn't going to talk to him. I was going to go on my way. But, something made me ask him what he was doing here.
When he didn't respond, I continued, "You don't know what you're doing here?" He merely hid behind his hair, avoiding my intense gaze. The poor guy was lost. But, weren't we all?
"ELijah. What in the world are you doing? We've been looking all over for you. You were supposed to wait at therapy," my father's voice bellowed out from his car in the street. He was getting out of the car to come scold me. Right in front of this stranger.
I backed away from the guy and went to meet my dad. "I waited for a half an hour. I figured you forgot again." I shrugged.
"Why didn't you call me?" my father asked. He eyed the young man behind me tentatively.
"I forgot my phone at home this morning," I answered.
"Who's your friend?"
I turned to look at the boy. "He's not my friend," I replied. "I was just passing by when you stopped me."
My dad went over to orange top. "What are you doing out here, son?" My dad's voice was gentle and calm. He was good at his job, I'd give him that, when it came to protecting the city and its citizens. He didn't do a great job at his job of father, however.
The boy didn't answer my dad, either. He just looked really scared. MY dad looked like he was thinking about the proper thing to do. After a moment, he put a hand on the boy's back and ushered him into the car. "You can stay with us until you figure out what you want to do. How does that sound?" my dad suggested.
He helped the guy in the car and drove us home where my dad helped get him settled into the guest bedroom, which just happened to be right across from my room. Great, now I had to deal with the idea of a stranger only a few feet away. Who knew what he'd do to me while I slept.
I went into my room, slamming the door behind me before I plopped onto my bed face first. After a few minutes, I could hear my dad talking to the kid, though I never heard the kid answer. I could smell some heated leftovers. My dad was feeding him, taking care of him.
I couldn't believe he was treating this stranger nice. He was being more caring and gentle to a complete stranger than he was to me. Shouldn't it be the other way around. What had I done to deserve this?
Expectations in your life just lead to giant disappointments.
