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I was finally feeling like myself when they left.
I lost my chance and I lost my dream, but I was slowly climbing out of my long sleep and I was ready to try again.
But I still had to wake up every day with the knowledge of what I had done and how I had failed. I slowly realized that I didn't have a chance and the fact that I had spent so long pawing at air and going no where hit hard.
I began to pretend that seeing the number on his back didn't bother me. I pretended that I didn't hear the whispers and murmurs from the others about how I wasn't good enough to be here and how he was all we needed. There was no room for someone like me. A failure. An oblivious, cocky, failure.
I realized that this wasn't new. I just didn't hear it before, being too busy with doing nothing and only bringing the others down.
Just when things were looking up for me, they left and I was faced with reality.
I had time to realize and think when I ran because it was all I did. Wake up, run, go to school, run, go to practice, run, pretend to be asleep, run. I repeated the cycle for weeks, never once touching a ball. I didn't have an urge to do so and I wash given a chance to do so.
My reflection in the mirror became haggard. I didn't have an appetite, I wasn't sleeping, I didn't care.
I didn't talk to others unless needed. I only talked to the words in my head as I ran and thought and realized.
I no longer screamed, no longer begged to pitch, I was no longer “there”.
And after running for nearly a month, I realized that maybe this wasn't for me after all. I wasn't supposed to come here. I was chasing a dream that didn't want to be caught, and after a while I didn't want to catch it either.
So I decided this would be the last day I ran, and the last day I was officially apart of this team. But the truth is, I hadn't been apart of the team since they left, and the others didn't seem to mind.
I put the tire away, and left practice.
No one followed me.
I didn't feel like going back to the dorm room so I went to the bending machines in the back of the school, where no one passed at his hour, and slumped against the side of it. I put my head in my hands and cried from frustration and pent up emotions about it all. I had let my family down, my friends down, the coach down, them, the others, myself, and you.
Worst of all I had let you down.
When coach made you captain, I knew things were going to look up. But the team didn't get that and things started to fall apart and I got caught up in whatever Im doing now and you lost sift of me. I didn't ask you to catch my pitch, you were with him, a battery was for two people. The ace and the catcher. I was not either of those. I did not belong. At this point I would never be up to your level, or his, or theirs. I was just another person. I realized that today.
The words kept talking and I kept realizing.
I don't know how long they talked. I realized I was shivering and there was no more light in the sky. I realized 3 things then. It was nighttime, practice was over, and no one noticed I was gone.
I laughed to myself, first a silent laughter, torso shaking, then a light chuckle, finally erupting into an angry hyena like sound. I laughed until my throat was raw and I couldn't make sound.
And thats how you found me.
Slumped against a bending machine, crying and dry heaving because i couldn't laugh anymore and my throat hurt so bad, but I couldn't care less. I did this to myself. You couldn't help me.
I couldn't see you, my sight was blurry from the tears, and I couldn't hear you over the sound of my words, but I think I felt you dart forward and wrap your arms around me.
I woke up in your room.
It hurt to open my eyes and my throat burned more than it did last night.
I was alone in your bed with a headache and you were not there.
But you left a note explaining that you'd be back after school ant that we had to talk. As well as a few threats of what would happen to me if I left your room.
The clock read noon and I had missed nearly all my classes.
I found I had no energy to be concerned and I had no energy to get up so I stayed in your bed and started at the ceiling until you came back.
You were angry when you did.
You were disappointed in me, and I couldn't apologize.
You yelled at me and I listened.
You cried for me and I stared.
You asked me why and I couldn't answer.
You told me you were my captain, and ordered me to snap out of it.
I would only let you down. We both knew this.
You went quiet after a while and sat down on the floor head in hands facing where I sat curled up in your bed.
I starred and watched your body shake from frustration, and your breathing never calmed down.
Why are you like this? Why are you acting like you care? Im not your pitcher anymore. I never was.
The words echo in my head. And I let them talk.
You raise your head and meet my gaze. Your eyes are hard and burning. And I'm forced to stare.
You shoot up and grab my shoulders and Im too tired to move away.
“I will coach you.”
Is all you say. And then you leave the room.
You come back later with my uniform in hand and tell me to get dressed.
When I don't move, you yell at me until your words and my words become too much and I get dressed.
On the field, I touch a ball for the first time since they left. Its foreign to my hand and its unnerving. How could something so familiar become so new?
You tell me to pitch.
But I just stare at the ball in my hand.
I can’t. I cant do this.
My grip tightens.
Im not good enough.
The words scream and I cant take it anymore.
Everything comes out at once, all my frustration, all my emotions, every things pour out of me and I throw the ball.
I don’t even know if my form is even close to correct, I don’t even have a target, I just throw.
But you caught it. The ball landing with a thud in your glove. And I just stare, breathing hard. I was probably screaming,
Throw again, you tell me.
And so I did.
You catch for me for weeks, during practice, after practice, whenever you have the chance. I didn't let myself think it was because you cared. I couldn’t. You were the captain. This was your job. Coach probably made you do this.
But even so I started to wake up again. I pitched to pitch now. Not because the words got to loud, not because you told me to. I did it for me. For the first time in months.
And I started to battle the words.
I talked back. And Id like to believe I was winning.
And you didn't know this. But you were there with me every step of the way. Helping me battle the words even if you had no idea the existed in the first place.
The others would talk. It was the same as always. They didn't understand why you even tried to work with me. I was a lost cause. Useless.
But you told me to drown out their words and just pitch.
Just pitch.
So I did that. Very slowly, and painfully I did that.
The person I was before, was waking up and was coming back.
I was till quiet. I hadn't had a real conversation since they left but I was eating and I wasn't running instead of sleeping. I had a purpose, and I was no longer pawing at air. But my dream was still lost. And it had begun to fade.
I had a long way to go before I would be back completely but I was on my way. There were still days where I woke up feeling like I was before, but it wasn't everyday anymore.
You were tough with me, but patient enough that I wasn't overwhelmed. I tried to be more focused but the words would scream and I would mess up. You would tell me to do it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until I was able to pitch close to my best. But I still felt I wasn't going anywhere.
Then the games came. I began to cheer from the dugout. But I wasn't as loud as I used to be. I didn't get to pitch either, but I was still on the team. They stopped whispering and murmuring. Some words went away. And I could see an end to all this. And I formed a new dream for now.
Then it all happened at once.
The last inning. The most crucial time with a tied score.
My name is called by the announcer.
Im supposed to pitch.
I vaguely feel my body moving towards the mound, but I'm having trouble seeing. My vision is blurry and my face feels hot. Everyones eyes are on me and I can feel them judging me, their words latch on to mine and the sound grows.
Im called in at an important time, Im not even supposed to be here. But he is out and the other pitcher is injured. Im the only other option.
Just one more out and we win.
One more.
One.
My feet touch the mound and everything stops.
There is no background noise. No talking in the stands, no cheers from the dugout. Just silence.
And I can't see.
The silence, the fear has robbed me of my sight and I cannot move.
But my mind starts to talk
‘Its impossible’
I can try.
‘You’ll fail’
I can still try
‘Its pointless.’
No
‘You don't belong here’
…
‘You’ll never be as good as him’
NO
And the words start screaming and its a terrible sound. They scream and scream, and my ears start to ache and my throat starts to burn. And just when it gets unbearable I hear you.
I hear you so I try to see again.
But the words still tell me I can’t.
But you still call out me and I need to try. I need to try.
I need to.
I need.
I.
The words stopped.
Cut off, discontinued, evaporated from my mind. They were gone.
Because I saw you from the mound, eyes sharp behind plastic, reflecting the sun, burning, waiting, examining my next move. The windup, the play, the pitch.
You waited and waited and I just realized it.
Because you were the one waiting for me to catch up this whole time.
But you don't have to wait anymore.
I tell you that in my stance, my movements, my gaze. I tell you that and more. So much more. And when I let go of the ball, I let go of everything I shouldn't have had in the first place. They propel the ball forward, flying off in every direction, fading into the background so I cant find them again.
And I'm holding my breath, I'm the one waiting this time. And you're watching, eyes still burning, but you understand, I can see it, I can feel it.
So when the ball reaches your glove, the impact sending aftershocks up your arm after a dull thud amplifying your heart, I know everything is okay.
Sounds become white noise, and I hold your gaze. because we did it, nothing really matters anymore.
Because I saw you from the mound and I realized I was okay and you were okay, and this whole situation was going to be okay because it always was.
And as you walked up to me, grinning and cocky as you always were…are… the white noise began to scream and it was all to much and I feel a thud on my shoulder and I open my eyes I didn't know I had shut.
You stood there with your burning eyes and they said my name.
You stay quiet and I speak for you. To you.
“I’m sorry I made you wait.”