Huh, I caught you! I didn`t say anything! You are the pervy ones.
I was just thinking about how hard we do everything, and how hard we make our lives be. We always go for the hardest. I guess we love hard stuff.
What am I expecting?
We were born in the hardest way ever. You shit in your pants, and who the hell knows how hard it is when your first tooth comes into the picture. Gases, and ohh…
You drive your mom crazy because you are a pain in the ass, crying all day and night, just because you can`t speak. Think! How hard it is!
Then you grow up hardly. You face the first love at the primary school, and you find out how hard is to understand girls. You have those damn homework to do, the first responsibilities. Probably get your ass spanked by your mama because you have to learn to share everything you have with your goddamned brother. The brother, which you will not understand his value until the hardest time of your life.
You groan in front of the mirror days and days because you have a shitty zit right on your forehead. It seems so hard to you, but then you open your eyes and see the first problems. Maybe poverty, or maybe too much money. In either case, it is never enough. It is never izzy pizzy.
You go on. Your homework becomes harder. You do so many mistakes and pay hard for them. You learn things, but never from others` experiences and advises. You learn just from the hard way. You get fucked by fake friends, even if your mom has told you to be careful thousands of time.
You steal some money from home or you sell the red bicycle your dad had bought for you and run away for a night or two with friends. Your parents are hardly breathing in your absence. Then you come back home when your money is gone and your fake friends ran away, and you get the biggest thrashing ever, realizing that the spanking ass when you were six-year-old was nothing. Everything is because of that girl. You wish to die when you realize the more you grow up, the more those girls become harder. Fucking girls…
Responsibilities put a load on your shoulders day by day, and finally, there comes the moment which you understand that your life is a summary of your parents` expectations. Your destiny is written. Your mother has already chosen your job. “My son will be a doctor.” Your fate is utterly binding. Your dad always says, “Life is hard, boy. You have to work to become somebody!” So you believe them and work hard to get in a good place and succeed in that hard life.
But it`s not you.
You want tattoos, alcohol, parties, fun. You don`t want girls anymore, you want women. Pretty nasty women, but you get so high, and you go so far that you lose yourself. You cannot stop because you are afraid. If you stop you will look back and see the disappointment on your parents` face. Your dad probably is angry because of all what you did, and much more sad because of the bicycle which he had bought with all his heart. Your mom? Probably it is unbearable to see her ‘doctor’ son being a… hard to call yourself like that.
You hardly look back, but they are neither angry nor sad. They take you back, embracing you full of love, and that makes everything much harder. You understand what a big trash you are.
You work hard as your dad says. You finish the hardest schools. You leave home and go on your path. You need the hardest career. You work harder. You buy the most expensive house. Then you find the woman which is the hardest to obtain a date from. You rock it. It is not hard anymore. You used to feel this bitter hardness until you started to live it and maybe love it. It is not hard for you anymore. You want more. What the hell? You worked hard!
You visit your mom and dad from time to time, but you don`t understand why the smile
on your dad`s face fades. Is he not proud of you? Of course, he is, but… you are not sure of that anymore. You worked hard as he asked. Why the fuck he…
You fight him. A stubborn silly fight which makes your mom sad. The point is just… he should be proud of you after all that you have done…
You dive into your life even harder. Success is yours. Because you try harder and harder every day. At that point, you understand the woman which was the hardest to obtain a date from was a regal bitch. Your business goes bad, and you are about to lose your house.
Your phone is ringing. It is your mom. You take the first flight back. You have to pay the most expensive doctors to heal your dad, and you still are a fool. When you enter his room you feel his gaze and the warmth of his breath on your cheek, and you understand it better. Yes, you are a fool.
You are happy because he gets better, but he is even happier because you are at home. You just don`t know that. You meet Katy, a beautiful woman in the neighborhood. Not very hard to get a date from her. A simple woman, but surprisingly you like her.
You speak with Katy and your mom about buying an old vintage Kentucky blue Cadillac for your dad. You know he likes it very much. You buy it, and he likes it, but you know him. You can see his soul. He will never be proud of you.
You help your mom with yard work and just grow a beard. You see how nice it is to have one after so many years. You breathe!
You breathe but it only hurts, seeing how easy it was. How easy it was to be in that home. How you could be so… blind? No, it is not the right word. How…
Your mom approaches you desperately. Your father will die soon. You all know that. You look at your mom and Katy. Then you start to run desperately. You run as fast as you can and find an old second-hand red bicycle. The sweat breaks out over your whole body while bringing it home, but you smile. Because finally, you get it. Not an expensive Cadillac would make him happy but the cheap red bicycle. Finally, you get it!
You reach home all sweaty, but your expression freezes when you see your mom and Katy crying. You cannot blink back that burning tear which runs down your cheek as your Adam`s apple moves while you swallow. Losing a parent… That is the hardest one.
Your dad was so proud of you, and he loved you so much that he never could tell you how greedy you have become, how wrong you understood his words, or how hard you made everything be. Just because you found everything hard when it was easy, and easy when it was hard. Just like a racing dog. You even stopped feeling that you run and ran until you forgot your innocence and destroyed not only yourself but the other loved ones too. Just for the satisfaction to have ‘the hardest’, or the most expensive, the most beautiful, the most… too many mosts….
You didn`t know. Did your father know when he was at your age? Neither did he. Your kid will? No, but you will be there for him or her exactly as your parents did.
We fight hard because we have to. And yes, it`s nothing wrong in aspiring for more. Right, we were forced to love ‘the hard’, but we forgot truly beautiful and worthy things. In that world which they force us to try harder, to have wads of cash to be respected, to take the highest degree diploma to be appreciated, to have the most expensive car to get the best woman, we will never get rid of that.
But stop and try to take a breath. Just breathe, and you will understand the red bicycle thing. Maybe in your story is not a red bicycle. Maybe it is another thing. Try, and you will find out your father’s ‘red bicycle’ if you didn`t until now.