It’s 10:11 PM on a Saturday. The only thing that lights up my world is this enormous screen and that tiny shaft of light that is sneaking between the cracks of the slightly adjacent bathroom door.

I was shivering. But the cold isn’t from just today. I remember this all too familiar feeling. I’ve been cold like this before. I’ve been feeling it creep in. Like an ominous thunder cloud that slowly engulfs the city. You know it’s going to shatter the silence of the night… and all hell will break loose.

I get up and I turn off the AC. A temporary solace. It does little to soothe the cold in my marrow. That chill still running down my spine. The room is completely quiet now. Too quiet. Too cold. Too alone. It’s all a little too much. I slip on my AirPods. The silence is deafening now. I know exactly what I am itching to listen to. I’d titled the playlist Pensive when I first curated it. I hit shuffle. Richard Ashcroft comes on with Running Away. I guess it was poetic in some way. The one thing I can’t do.

The hair on my face is coming to back to its full glory. My lower lip smacks the tiny hair that have started to encroach it’s upper counterpart. Salty. The tears that had broken out like a dam that burst a few minutes ago. I realize my brain is on full alert. I am hyper vigilant. I know I am going to lose again. I can smell it all. The dog. The Drakkar. The traces of soap. The fear. It’s all hanging in the air. I’m being broken again.

There is a scene that is etched in my head. It’s from Saving Private Ryan. Tom Hanks is sitting propped up against the side of a tank. He’s injured, cold, alone. All he has in his hand is the pistol with a handful of bullets. He lifts up his limp hands towards the Panzer that is inching closer and closer to him. A futile attempt to save himself. He know’s it. He can’t be saved. This isn’t what can save him. But the only thing he knows is to show up and fight. Especially when he knows he will lose. He pointed the gun towards the behemoth. And he shot. The recoil which was a meagre reaction when he was in his full capacity now renders his hand shake in a palsy way. He steadies it as best as he can. And he shoots again. And again. And again. And on the fifth attempt the tank gets obliterated. What?! How!? The cavalry had arrived, accompanied by the winged angels of death. I didn’t have to wonder why I was fixated on this scene. I was the cavalry.

When Nemo was barely bigger than my palm and he lay on the tiny bed with the monitors beeping. Holding onto his life by the skin of the teeth that hadn’t sprouted yet. When the world was falling apart. When I didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. When the storm came and there was no place to hide and all hope was lost. I was the cavalry. I rode in and saved the day. Over and over and over and over again. Even when I bled into the night and I just wanted the darkness to engulf me, when I was needed I sensed it like the Bat signal and picked myself up and came riding in.

I yearned for you to need me that way. After all what strokes the cavalry more than a dying need. I remember the first time it happened. This time it was when Zena that was lying in the hospital. The catholicon potion went drip every few minutes and coursed slowly into her veins. She lay there waiting for the night to end. You saw her knowing you couldn’t do anything to catalyze it. But this time you couldn’t ride the storm out alone. The moment I sensed it I rode in with the power of a 147 horses. My right leg kept the pedal stuck to the floor until I reached you. That was the first time you ever broke in front of me. And I was so happy. I was at peace. I was needed. I was essential. I had a purpose.

That dizzying rush of dopamine disappeared as I was beginning to realize that it was happening. It lasted less than a struck match burning to the fingers. I chased that rush with you. Over and over again. I inserted myself in between you and the world. I towered over you and covered you so no one would ever hurt you again. My outside was bulletproof.

I’d been so busy keeping the demons out I didn’t see the knife go into my back. And just like that, in a snap, this giant who protected everything he loved, just became that little boy.

I would like to think that you wouldn’t be able to survive the pain of seeing just exactly how much I wept… and continue to weep. Just as I did today. When your world collapsed, I came a running. When the ground beneath my feet disappeared and turned into quicksand. I turned to you to hold me. To show up for me. To save me.

But the cold hard truth stared back at me today.

There Is No Cavalry.