I was once a warrior of love, hell I was.
Who wouldn't be?
I was once a warrior of love.
I told myself over and over again as I drove to my apartment this night, with Elvis' words still fresh on my mind. He did not want any engagements I had with Aaliyah, he surely did not want, and I too, I too did not want the feeling, this feeling I was sparking with Aaliyah. It would be easier to state, I actually despised it, I despised this feeling. It was not one I would easily just state, I enjoyed it, I would just use the simple word, I despised it.
I despised that she was sometimes in my mind more often than anyone had ever been in so many years. I despised the fact my heart somehow raced when she was around. I despised that I was having her more often here around my apartment, than any person ever did. I despised that she was somehow, little by little, finding ways to dig in my holes, and all faults would come back unto me. I was the one who invited her, or maybe better, I was the one who took her to school the next day.., 'to make up for my faults', and better off picked her. If I just would have ignored her and never brought up the idea of any other contact between us two, except for that day's almost sex, I liked that day.., I would not be thinking this much.
All along I was in my car, in the parking lodge of the apartments, I was just sitting here, lights off, the car off, just me and my thoughts. It was long since I found myself contemplating about a person this much. I wanted to leave, I wanted to leave and arrive at my apartment, but it just felt too far away, and I knew I would sleep in this car., till morning. Like I always did when drank and stressed.
The hooting of cars, the glitching of cars and the opening of gates woke me up, I had passed out inside my car. I had really passed out.
As I checked my wristwatch, it was five AM, I had a late shift today, am pretty sure I would just push it till night, and then tomorrow, I would do the same, work myself up until I forget if I ever had feelings of needing someone, or feeling something growing within me, I needed to, I needed to.
So, I reached out onto my phone, five missed calls, it stated, from Aaliyah. I saw, and I just tossed my phone onto the hood I wore, as I tried to open the door and head out. Aaliyah did not need me, I told myself. Aaliyah did not need me, I told myself again, as I walked myself all through to the elevator, and then to my room, opened it and just entered, as I ran straight to the bathroom and started the shower.
I needed to start my normal life again, waking from a car, or a random hotel, getting into this apartment, running the shower, wearing nice clothes, and then heading out to just clear my mind. I needed that. So, the normal routine started, I showered, made some fried eggs for my breakfast after drinking some headache medicine, wore some shorts, sneakers, and a t-shirt, as I carried my bag, which contained the clothes to wear for my late shift in addition to the stethoscope and lab coat, took my car keys, some money, and headed outside, started my car, and left. I only had one place in mind, just one place, to go shopping and take it to Lady's mercy orphanage camp, where I would provide the children there with more things they needed. I was used to coming there before, before I became a waster and an idiot, am sure they will be glad to see me back.
So I entered the children's toys station and started buying all these good things, sneakers, toys, balls, children's clothes, all the things children loved, I just bought them. I did not have a caring if they were expensive or not, I just felt the need, I just felt as if this was the only way I would give back to God, or better off, I would apologize to God and the universe for not being there for my…, for just being missing.
"Put them in the boot and the back seat," I directed the officer who was helping me with all of them, appreciated him, and started my Tesla again. I loved this baby more than anything in this world. I would kill anything for it, I really would. Anyway, I started the music and drove some miles towards the Lady's Mercy Orphanage, it was a non-governmental office brought up for the purpose of giving young unfortunate children, foster parents, and generally protecting them from life's dangers before someone would choose to adopt them.
There was a boy there who was fond of me; he was four years old the last time I was here. I guess now he is almost six or seven, so you can imagine how far it has been, I mean how long it has been. I guess from today I shall be visiting every week, or every day if my time allows. When I have night shifts, I can be wasting my time here, a little time, as not to exhaust myself for the nights.
So, on arrival at the large gates of Lady Mercy Orphanage, I entered and parked my car right in the middle of the parking lodge. I spent a quiet thirty minutes in the car as the watchman came to check on me.
"Hello sir, welcome to Lady Mercy's, please feel free and at home," he stated after I moved out of the car, as he directed me to the head's office. I guess calling the principal head would be really beautiful.
First, the cashier took in my name, identification number, and my time of arrival. Then I headed to the head's office. I had been told by the watchman that now the head had changed; her daughter had taken over the position, and she was around today. He somehow said I was lucky, so I just went on and knocked on the door. 'No answer'... so I knocked again, and a little 'come in' was heard from the inside. I caught the doorknob to open it when a little boy came running past me, and a little strange feeling came over me, like I knew that boy, like hell, I knew that boy. So, (the feeling) It drove me to the extent I followed the boy to wherever he ran, onto the playground, the large playground where many children were, all busy doing their own things.
Some were playing soccer, others were dancing to different rhythms, others were just being bored watching others, while others were speaking to other people, just like me, who sought to speak to them. I had not yet even told the management that I had something to offer the young ones; I still had not. I would, of course, tell them later on. But my eyes lingered on that boy; he was around three or four years old. He could swiftly kick the ball but just make a little fumble and fall. He could laugh and jump up and down, but he was just... he just could not stand steady, really, but he still kept up with the big boys. He dressed decently though, as though he barely was a part of the orphan team who just leaned on the little donations and presents given to them by well-wishers.
"That one is not for donation," the voice stated from behind, and that voice... if that voice could not be any more familiar, then I would be in my wildest dream. Suddenly, my legs could not move, and my mind became barely blank, and it was all a statement of God this should not be a dream, or maybe I was dreaming, or I was just being blank, or being indifferent, and I feared turning to face the voice, so I just looked at the field, assuming that I did not hear the voice, as I placed my hand in the pocket to at least wipe away my sweat.
Why did that voice look familiar? Hell... why did it?
And after five breaths and a heavy amount of time, I looked back to see the woman behind. The woman who had spoken, but she was already gone. She was like a flash, one minute, and she is all gone. 'Keep calm,' I told myself as I looked at the boy one more time. He was now running, riding a wheeler. If he were mine, I would buy him a bicycle. One day I will adopt a child, I inwardly stated, as I saw Miller, the groundsman. He was the only man who maybe remembered me here, so I went directly to him, without thinking, as the young boy I was looking at threw a small ball near me, and I took it and handed it to him as he looked at me, and then smiled, and he felt familiar, as if there was a pull between us, or I alone felt it, but I felt there was something, there was something he and I shared, or maybe it was because I also barely had one parent, because I did not know how it felt having a father, and for him, it was both parents, I thought...
"That one is not for donation, young man," Miller stated, and the way he stated 'young man' made me wonder if I had really changed from the previous time I was here.
"Miller...," I stated, and he sniffled, making his ugly face. He hated being called by his second name by someone he never knew, so I added as a fact, "it's me, Hayzen," I stated.
"Which Hayzen?" he asked.
"Hayzen, Hayzen Levin, Hayzen the doctor."
"The doctor? Doctors are in hospitals, young man," he stated, now starting to continue his groundsman job, and I knew I had something to say, something that would make him at least remember me.
"The boy who came here and cried after having a time with these kids, the young man who was buddies, with a little boy named Shane." I added, yes I did cry, a long story. A long story of pain, that I barely know if I will ever have a chance to tell.
"Oohoooo..," he stated, after thinking hard. I sometimes pitied him when he was thinking, he seemed to be in treal pain when he was thinking, it was more like I was forcing him to do physicals exercise. "The young man, who abandoned little Shane." He stated.., and I was shattered,
'abandoned' the word I hated to hear on earth.
'abandoned'
'abandoned''.