My name is Kamau and I have been a hero for as long as I can remember, but I cannot remember exactly when I became a hero. I wish I could recall the first life I ever attempted to save or maybe even the first distress call I ever responded to. What I do know is that saving lives has become my life. Helping the helpless and defending the defenseless. It is all I do; all I know how to do. I cannot simply look away when someone is in trouble. It is impossible for me, especially when their pain is staring right at me, pleading with my humanity to do something, anything, just help. A part of me wishes I could just walk away from them. Being a hero is a tiresome thing. Trying to save people from themselves is a full-time job with no rewards or pay, just more responsibility. There are no working hours, no holidays and therefore no breaks. Villains never take a break, so one must be on call 24/7; and trust me they will call. Somebody is always in danger somewhere. Someone is always too close to the edge of a rooftop; always on the wrong end of a loaded gun; always one more pill away from an overdose; always dangling helplessly off the cliff of life and slowly losing their grip. Someone somewhere is always in search of a hero, and this is where I come in. Always just in the nick of time to save the day. The problem is, there is always another, and you never know who will need to be saved. Take it from me, the hero, who’s never been saved.
It is not an easy task saving lives. There is more to it than just swooping in and instantly flying off just before the great explosion makes for a spectacular show of heroism. No, you’ve got to get people to trust you first. It is almost impossible to save a person who doesn’t trust you. In most cases they will cling tightly to the very thing that you are trying to save them from. The problem is that if you cannot get them to trust you, they wont take your hand and let go of the very thing about to destroy them; and you will both die. This is why I say a hero saves people from themselves, and that villains get too much credit. Villains don’t exist in our time, they died out many centuries ago because of the lack of job opportunities. With the rise in natural disasters, business men and politicians, there just weren’t that many vacancies left for hooded men with evil intentions. It is said the last generation of villains all went into banking and insurance. I guess the villain of our day is one’s own heart and mind. I can’t have a glorious fight scene with one’s heart or slug it out in the rain with a mind until I emerge as the victor who saved the world.
All I can do really is try to help change one’s mind about something. And for their heart, well there isn’t much a hero can do for a heart besides bring it hope. If there is one thing a hero cannot protect, it’s a heart. They are more likely to become a villain when a human heart is involved because a heart doesn’t need super strength, super speed, x-ray vision or a cape. A heart just needs attention, careful and caring attention; something a hero cannot give – forever. Then she came along and made the biggest mistake, she gave me her heart; and I was stupid enough to take it.
Malika was someone I was trying to save and fell in love with. We both fell, which depending on how you perceive it could feel like flying. Heroes shouldn’t fall in love, but often we do, with devastating consequences. It was cute in the beginning; it always is. After sometime the call of duty began to wear on the relationship. She wanted me as her personal hero and I wanted to be exactly that for her; except that I couldn’t only be her hero, she wasn’t the only one in trouble. We would fight every time I would fight for someone else. She always thought I was fighting her while fighting for someone else. We had good times, really good times and those were some of the worst times for me. Being so used to having a purpose in bad times leaves me out of place when things are going well. When her life is going well and she’s happy, I feel useless, because I am a hero at the end of the day. Saving lives is all I do; it’s all I know how to do. She hasn’t needed a hero in a long time, and I need someone who needs me.
“You can’t save everybody, stop trying to be Jesus. Who’s going to save you?” I heard her when she said this, but I wasn’t listening.
I find her, the perfect damsel in distress; Ayo. She looks at me with eyes that I know all too well. She, in desperate need of help, finds me in desperate need to help someone. She fell in love with the idea of being saved; I fell for her desperation. Heroes don’t want the world to be a better place; on the contrary we live off the helplessness of others. Without pain, fear and anguish, then there would be no need for our presence. We want to be wanted. We need to be needed. Heroes don’t want a better world; it’s the villains who always believe they were making the world a better place. We always said that we’re “only doing our job ma’am.” And doing my job is what I am good at. My job now is what I love doing, but it takes away from my love; for her.
The more I’m saving Ayo from her distresses, the more Malika needs me. It’s killing her that my heart is no longer with her but out saving; while not being able to save was killing me just as much. One of us must sacrifice our lives for the other, but of what value is a hero dead? I’m now caught between loving my job and the job of being loved. I am torn; the battle is within me and these women are the casualties of my personal war. Somebody save them from me. This is the Achilles heal of all heroes: having to chose between saving the one they love or the one they’ve spent their whole lives protecting; the innocent civilian.
Things begin to fall apart because they both need me but I cannot save them both. I am not much of a hero right now. I don’t think I ever was. I believed I was a hero for as long as I can remember, but I cannot remember exactly when I became a hero. All I remember is that I desperately needed a hero in life. My dad was my hero and there when I needed him for most of my life, but at some point he died and left me with fear, pain and a lot of anxiety. I always found myself too close to the edge of a rooftop; always on the wrong end of a loaded gun; always one more pill away from an overdose; always dangling helplessly off the cliff of life and slowly losing my grip. I was always waiting and searching for a hero, and when no-one came, that is when I stepped up. All I was left with was memories and a bloodied cape. I put it on, and promised to protect those I love just the way he did. I guess I became a hero the same way a fatherless and desperate child becomes a man; haphazardly, for himself and ‘in place of’.
The world I’ve been carrying on my shoulders is about to come crashing down on me, I can feel my arms trembling under the weight. As my knees buckle I finally hear the words “Stop trying to save everybody. Who’s going to save you?” I finally get it. Malika didn’t make the biggest mistake by trusting me with her heart, she was showing me that I could trust her. She needed to do that for me to trust her, so she could save me. The problem is that if she didn’t get me to trust her, then I would never take her hand and let go of the very thing about to destroy me. I was stuck between the love of being a hero and being loved by my hero. I feel my arms lose strength and I know it’s time. I smile as a tear rolls slowly down my face.
Some are born heroes, others are born needing heroes. I’m about to die a hero because no one could save me from my heroism…
Originally written by PJLebea
You can check out his other work here and read the original post here.
