A Lesson Hard Learned

Why? Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Those questions rolled through Roland’s mind as his body moved through the forms. Shirtless, the sweat poured off him as he worked himself to the point of exhaustion and a little beyond. His heavy, black, cotton gi pants snapped with the force and precision of kicks perfectly executed. The muscles in his arms, shoulders and back burned with exertion as he kept up the dance, seeing opponents before him, circling him, coming at him and his response to them. His father had called it a walking meditation, a way to clear the mind and ease the soul. But today, it wasn’t working, no matter how hard he focused the words kept playing over and over.
 
You’re an idiot. You’ve known them for what, a few weeks in total time? And almost none of that was ever in close company. The block slipped, just a little too wide, the next overcorrected, and he could feel the phantom opponent’s fist graze his bicep. You stepped too far. You were trying to be playful, friendly, fun, and yes a bit on the flirtatious side. And it’s all fun and games until you let your mouth get away from your brain. A turn, but the block was thrown too early, the side kick clipped his ribs, causing him to stumble ever so slightly. You know Roo doesn’t care, and so even in jest why did you bring her into it? He didn’t see it coming, another phantom, this one connecting solidly with the side of his face.
 
And L. You found her in the street, in an alley, passed out and vulnerable. Of course you were going to help her, it’s what you do. It’s what Father would have wanted. He regained his balance, the attacks coming faster now, but his hands move with the grace of years turning kicks and punches aside, sliding between opponents and hammering them with precise blows in return. You’ve done good in your life, you’ve trained, you’ve used your skills to help others, and you’ve lived in a way that would make Father proud. A roundhouse sends one opponent flying, a reverse punch slams into the gut of another sending them down. This time he sees the punch coming clearly, almost feeling the phantom wind from it. His hand snakes out and traps the wrist, the follow up knife hand strike to the neck is pulled with just enough force not to kill, never to kill, not even opponents that don’t exist. He let’s go as the last one falls.
 
Roland’s heavy breathes sound through the small dojo, exhaustion burning in every muscle. But then. Foot steps on the mat. You had to think. The footsteps are heavy, almost shaking the floor, not with size, but the simple power of the phantom they belong to. You had to relax and cut loose, to play along, to consider, for even a moment, that someone on your path. The phantom stands in perfect stance, perfect form, no openings in their defense and ready to launch an attack with any limb. It vibrated with power. Long ago, you made a choice! Fast, too fast, Roland didn’t even see the phantom move before the fist hammered into his belly. You decided that you wouldn’t bother with any form of romantic interest. Roland dodged, only barely, as the next punch whistled by his head with the force to crack bone. Hell, you had those girls in school who were more than willing to date you. They even offered themselves to you, but you refused. Block, block, counter, block, block, miss. He didn’t bring his leg up high enough or fast enough to absorb the impact of the roundhouse aimed at his ribs. Roland’s balance shattered and he was sent sprawling. He snapped back up and was rooted in stance again just in time to block the next series of blows.
 
You were too busy to bother with such things. You were going to make Father proud, his perfect little student. You’d let nothing get in the way of that, not love. Even blocked the punch hit with enough force to bruise his arm. Not romance. He couldn’t keep up with them, he could see them coming but they were just too powerful, and blew through his defenses. And certainly not sex. You absolutely couldn’t let that distract you. The knee came up, but Roland caught it, the force still taking him off his feet, and leaving him unable to deal with the elbow strike that hammered into his temple, sending him rolling across the floor. You could have had those things too you know. Could have had all that, and maybe more, but you felt it was too risky. The kick hammered into his ribs as he lay on the mat, sending him rolling. You couldn’t let anything get in the way. And why? Because you had nothing else.
 
Those words hurt more than any blow he’d taken. When that thing came, you were a child, you couldn’t do anything. And when your mother died right in front of you, with a smile on her face because for the first time in her life she got to see the walls of Olympia, a place she always wanted to go, you didn’t blame him, or any of the others. The footsteps sounded a slow pace across the mats and to him. You’d lost everything, until he said that you were his and he’d protect you. That he’d teach you so that you’d never have to be afraid. A phantom hand reached down, pulling Roland up by his hair, then another was placed around his neck. You sacrificed everything for him. And he didn’t ever ask you to. The hand squeezed, and breathing became difficult. He wanted you to have a life, not just to be a master of the art, but to be a full and complete person. Hell you saw him have more than a few women friends over the years so clearly relationships and sex never interfered with him, as he could still throw you all over this place even after twelve years of training.
 
Breathing became shallower, harder, slower. But you couldn’t see how to do the same. You felt, somewhere, that any distraction would set you back, maybe even make you a disappointment. But he never said that, never even hinted at that. He wanted you to be strong, trained, but most importantly, he wanted you to be happy. The room started going dark as his body was starved of what little breath it’d been able to get as the hand kept squeezing. Something shifted inside him, like a chain being unlocked with great care. “You’re right.” He choked out. What did you say? Taking in more air as the hand let up just a little. “I said you’re right. And he was right. Dad was right.”
 
The force around his throat vanished, as did the hand pulling his hair. In an instant it was all gone like smoke in a breeze. “I have been so focused, especially these last, almost seven years, that I’ve not let anything cross that line. Let anyone cross it. I’ve been pushing myself so hard to be ready, to be strong enough, and good enough, and worthy enough that he’d come back like he promised.” Roland shook his head, a grin pulling at his lips. “But he wanted me to be a whole person, not just a living book. That’s one part of my life that I’ve never let myself walk down. Maybe, maybe that’s part of it. Part of why I’m not ready. Because for all that I can do, I’m still not whole.” He chuckles. “I blocked off and ignored that part of myself, those desires because, you were right, I was afraid of the distraction. But “a man cannot be whole until he has embraced all parts of himself.” All these years and I still hear his voice quoting to me.”
 
You know that you’re basically starting from scratch on this. There are kids in grade school who have more experience than you. Hell you didn’t even let yourself have a crush when you were a kid. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” It’s going to be a lot of work, and you’re going to fail a lot. “You say that like I haven’t learned that lesson a thousand times over already. Failure happens, it’s a part of life, and the risk of trying anything. What matters is if you get back up and try again, if you learn. Or if you just lay there and let that failure be the last thing you do.” If you want to speed things up, you could always take L up on her offer to buy you time with a professional? Roland laughed, the sound filling the room. “Maybe one day. Maybe. But we’ve never done things the quick way, so why should we start now with this?”
 
So how do you feel? “Less foolish. Though I’m sure I made a bit of a spectacle when I left with all the stuttering. And I hope that Roo didn’t take offense. I’ve never seen her with anyone so she’s probably got no interest. I just hope my fumbling didn’t upset her.” Good. Soon you should go back to talk to them. Maybe apologize just in case. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Not for a little bit though. Got other things I need to do first. Other jobs.” And what about L? “I don’t know. I’m in brand new territory here, and am still fumbling my way through things.” What was that saying we saw in the newspaper comics last week? “Sucking at something is the first step in being sorta good at something.” More laughter flowed through the room.
 
Wintertide is coming. Maybe you can start there? Roland thought about this for a minute. “I think that’s a good plan. And I know just the place to go too. I think it’ll be a good start to whatever happens in the future.” There’s plenty of fish in the sea, as the ancients said. “And I’m one of them because I’m a catch!” Oh hell that was bad! Roland couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “I’m open to any possibility with pretty much anyone. Let’s not plan anything and just see where this river takes us, shall we?” I think that’s a wonderful idea. Time to rest.
 
Roland opened his eyes, his body drenched in sweat and every muscle ached. The incense stick had burnt down, and was near it’s end as it sat upright in the small sand bowl on top of the small floor table. The room was filled with the smell of sandalwood. “Goodnight dad, wherever you are. Sorry it took me this long to understand your lesson. But it finally got through my thick head. I feel your love even now, and I hope you feel mine back. Let’s look up at the stars together.” Roland carefully put back everything and cleaned off the table before standing up and leaving the room. He turned the lights off, leaving only a single candle burning for the moment. “Good night dad. I love you.” With a short, quiet breath, he blew the candle out and left the dojo for the night.