No One Is Coming
The Truth You Fear, The Freedom You Need
-🏴☠️-Short Story-🏴☠️-
A Lesson in Pain
The first punch didn't knock me down. It never does.
The second sent me to my knees, gravel digging into my palms as I caught myself before hitting the ground. The taste of copper filled my mouth, warm and thick. My breathing came in sharp, ragged gasps, chest tightening with each attempt to steady myself. I barely had a second before a boot slammed into my ribs. Air left my lungs in a soundless gasp, my fingers clawing against the pavement as I fought to stay upright.
The laughter was the worst part.
It echoed through the parking lot, sharp and cruel. This wasn't some dark alley. This wasn't some hidden backstreet where bad things happened in secret. This was right out in the open, under the dull glow of the overhead lights. A few cars sat in the distance, engines idling, their headlights cutting long shadows across the pavement. People were here. People were watching.
But no one was helping.
I coughed, spitting blood onto the pavement, and tried to push myself up. A hand grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me upright just in time for another fist to slam into my ribs. My body curled inward, instinctively trying to protect itself. A mistake. A second later, a punch caught me from the other side, snapping my head back. My vision blurred, black spots creeping at the edges.
This wasn't my first fight. I'd taken hits before. I'd thrown them too. But this was different. There was no teacher coming to break it up. No friend running to my side. No bystander stepping in to say, “Hey, that's enough.”
It was just me.
On the pavement.
Alone.
And the worst part? I had believed, right up until that moment, that someone would come.
I don't even know how it started. Not really. There was no big reason, no grand offense. Just the way things go sometimes. A look held too long. A joke made at the wrong time. A group of guys who decided I was easy entertainment for the night.
I should have kept my head down. I should have walked away the moment I saw the way they were looking at me, the way they spread out in that loose, practiced formation, blocking paths without seeming to. But I didn't. And by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.
At first, I told myself someone would say something. The cashier inside. The guy getting into his car just twenty feet away. The couple lingering by the curb, the glow of a cigarette tip bright against the night.
But no one did.
Because that's not how the world works, is it? A person in trouble, a crowd watching, someone is supposed to step in. A hand is supposed to reach out. A voice is supposed to call out. The police are supposed to show up.
The good guys are supposed to win.
But the world doesn't work that way. The world isn't fair. It isn't kind. It doesn't care.
I sucked in a breath, my ribs screaming in protest. I could stay down. Maybe they'd get bored eventually. Walk away. Leave me there.
But another truth settled into my bones, heavier than the bruises forming beneath my skin: No one was coming.
If I wanted to stand, if I wanted to make it out of that parking lot, if I wanted to walk away instead of crawl, I was going to have to do it myself.
So I pushed myself up. My arms trembled. My vision swam. Blood dripped from my mouth to the pavement below.
But I stood.
The laughter faded.
The ones who had seemed so powerful a moment ago took a step back. They had expected me to stay down.
Most people did.
But not me.
Not anymore.
-🏴☠️-Essay-🏴☠️-
No One is Coming
Pain, as a teacher, is indifferent. It does not mold itself to our expectations of justice, nor does it concern itself with whether we believe we deserve it. It simply arrives, announces itself with force, and demands endurance. But it is in this very endurance, this act of standing despite the weight pressing down, that we confront an uncomfortable truth: resilience is forged not in the hope of rescue, but in the certainty of its absence.
For much of our lives, we are conditioned to believe that help will come. Fairy tales end with salvation. Stories of justice reaffirm the presence of the hero. We are taught that the world operates on an unspoken societal contract, those in need will be helped, the suffering will be relieved, the fallen will be lifted. And so, we wait. We wait for the hand that will reach out, the voice that will call out, the justice that will arrive.
But what if it doesn't?
What if the world is not one of grand rescues and noble interventions, but one where pain is an unacknowledged bystander, and suffering plays out in full view of an indifferent audience? What then?
To wait is to surrender agency, to place one's fate in the hands of those who may never arrive. It is to let the world dictate whether one stands or stays down. But to rise, to stand despite knowing that no one is coming, is an act of defiance against the very nature of suffering. It is a declaration that survival is not contingent upon external salvation but upon the will to endure.
Resilience is not the absence of pain. It is not even the absence of fear. It is the understanding that pain will come, that fear will press down, and that no hand may reach out to help. It is in this act of standing, this quiet, defiant choice to persist, that true strength is revealed.
The Illusion of Rescue
Greatness is not born from perfection or from the smoothness of a life unmarred by failure. It is forged in the fires of struggle, in the moments when a person stumbles, falls, and faces the hard truth of their own shortcomings. Strength is not found in avoiding defeat but in standing back up, looking failure in the eye, and pressing forward. It is in those moments, bruised and weary, that real growth begins.
Yet, many spend their lives waiting, waiting for someone or something to come and lift them out of their suffering. They look to leaders, institutions, saviors, or fate itself, believing that if they just hold on long enough, relief will come. They tell themselves that one more program, one more opportunity, one more hand reaching down will change everything.
This expectation of rescue manifests in countless ways throughout society. Consider how many remain in unfulfilling careers waiting for the perfect opportunity rather than creating their own path, or how children raised with excessive protection often struggle when facing life's inevitable challenges. These patterns reveal how the expectation of external salvation can become a barrier to genuine resilience and growth.
The Trap of Dependence
Failure is a teacher more honest than any friend, more relentless than any foe. It strips away illusion, revealing what a person is truly made of. Many turn back at the first sign of difficulty, seeking comfort in a life without challenge, a life where they can avoid the sting of their own shortcomings. But there are those who, in the face of failure, find a strength they did not know they possessed. These individuals do not measure their worth by the number of battles they have won but by the number they have had the courage to fight.
The world has never promised fairness, and life owes no one an easy path. The belief that something external will provide salvation is a slow poison, one that weakens resolve and saps the will to act. People fall into the trap of blaming circumstances, waiting for fate to intervene, or convincing themselves that they deserve better. But hardship is not merely a forge; it is a mirror. It reflects the truth of who we are, stripping away the false comforts we cling to. Those who see hardship clearly do not just endure it; they learn from it, cutting away the unnecessary and focusing on what truly matters.
This is not to suggest that all forms of support or community are detrimental. Even the most self-reliant individuals exist within networks of relationships and reciprocal aid. The danger lies not in connection itself, but in surrendering personal agency to the hope that someone else will carry our burdens for us. The balance lies in recognizing that while community can strengthen us, ultimately the hardest steps must be taken alone.
The Hard Truth
True change begins when a person becomes tired of their own excuses, when they are weary of the same cycle of mistakes and regrets. It is easy to live day after day, blaming the world, holding onto grudges, or waiting for change to come from somewhere beyond themselves. Yet, there comes a moment, often in the quiet of solitude, when they see themselves clearly and know that the only thing holding them back is their own unwillingness to change. It is a humbling moment, one that strips away pride and leaves only the raw truth.
In that moment, they face a choice. They can continue as they have, walking the same road, telling themselves the same stories, or they can take a step into the unknown, choosing to become who they were meant to be. Growth does not come with comfort or ease; it comes when a person is ready to tear down the walls they have built around their own flaws, to confront the parts of themselves they have tried to ignore. This is not a task for the faint of heart, for it demands honesty, courage, and a relentless spirit. It is the path of those who refuse to be shaped by the hands of the world and instead forge themselves in the fire of hardship.
Those who embrace this truth do not wait for rescue; they sharpen their minds, harden their resolve, and learn to stand without crutches. They do not beg for fairness, nor do they expect the universe to grant them reprieve. They understand that their struggles are their own, and through struggle, they find clarity. The path forward is neither paved nor illuminated, it must be carved out by one's own hands, step by step, through trial and toil.
The weak will wait, hoping for mercy. The strong will rise, embracing the weight of responsibility. In this, they become something more than survivors, they become the architects of their own fate, the wielders of their own strength. They are unshackled, not by an absence of burden, but by the knowledge that no burden is too great to bear.
The Unspoken Truth
The world teaches us to ask for help. "Reach out," they say. "You don't have to do this alone." But what they never tell you, what they refuse to admit, is that waiting for help that never comes is more damaging than never expecting it in the first place.
This is the silent struggle that destroys so many veterans. We are told to lean on the system, to ask for assistance, to believe that if we just admit we need help, it will be given. But what happens when the help isn't there? When the phone calls go unanswered, when the appointments are months away, when the people who said they understood can't even look you in the eye? The system tells us to seek rescue, but it never teaches us how to rescue ourselves.
This is where self-reliance becomes not just an advantage, but a necessity. Not because help is meaningless, but because help is unreliable. Because the only person who will always be there when you fall is you. And if you have spent your life waiting for someone else to pull you back to your feet, then you will never learn how to stand on your own.
The strongest among us are not the ones who never struggle. They are not the ones who never fall. They are the ones who, when the world turns its back, when the support crumbles, when the voices that once promised help fade into silence, they refuse to stay down. They do not waste time waiting for a rescue that may never come. They do not live in false hope that someone else will carry their burden. They face the truth: the responsibility for survival is theirs alone.
It is not weakness to ask for help. But it is fatal to rely solely on it.
Self-reliance is not about rejecting support. It is about understanding that help, when it comes, is a tool, not a lifeline. It is about recognizing that even in the best of circumstances, the weight of our struggles is ours to bear. It is about knowing that while someone may lend a hand, it is still your strength that must lift you.
And if they do offer a hand out of the well, it won't change the fact that you must be willing to save yourself.
What if?
Building on this recognition of personal responsibility that so many veterans must face, we must also confront an even deeper question: What if help did arrive? Would it fundamentally change the nature of our struggle?
Even if someone did come, they would never carry your burden the way you must. They could offer a hand, a fleeting reprieve, but the weight of your life is yours alone. No one else can walk your path. No one else can endure your suffering for you. At best, they can lighten the load for a moment, but the journey is still yours to take.
This is why waiting is a slow death. To depend on others for salvation is to hand over control of your own fate. It is to exist in limbo, hoping for an answer that may never arrive, surrendering your power in exchange for the illusion of relief. And even if relief does come, it does not last. Those who rely on external rescue never truly learn to stand. They become dependent, weakened by the expectation that someone else will always be there to pull them from the fire.
But those who rise on their own? They do not break. They do not waste time pleading with a world that does not listen. They harden themselves in the knowledge that their strength is theirs to forge. Their pain, their failures, their struggles, they own them. And in doing so, they transcend them.
Stand Above It
The person who grows is not the one who seeks perfection but the one who embraces their imperfections and works to become better. They are not free of failure; rather, they learn to stand above it. They know that each setback is an opportunity, a lesson in resilience, a step toward the strength that can only come from enduring hardship. They no longer seek an easy path but one that will shape them, that will test them and bring out the best they have to give. They understand that true transformation comes not from avoiding challenges but from facing them head on with determination and resolve.
Growth is not measured by comfort or ease but by the depth of one's willingness to endure discomfort in pursuit of something greater. Those who truly seek transformation do not ask the world to lessen their burdens; they seek only to grow strong enough to bear them. They understand that their struggles are not curses but the very crucible that will forge them into something more.
They do not wait for circumstances to improve or for the world to recognize their efforts. They do not look for permission to rise. Instead, they accept the reality that waiting breeds stagnation. The greatest enemy is not hardship itself, but the illusion that something outside of us will one day provide clarity, purpose, or direction. Those who press forward do so not because the path is clear, but because they refuse to remain lost in the fog of hesitation.
So, they move forward, not with the naivety of one who believes they will never fall again but with the wisdom of one who knows that each fall is a chance to rise anew. They understand that true greatness is not in avoiding failure but in learning to see through the illusion of safety. Many would rather cling to a false sense of security than face the unknown. But those who step forward despite uncertainty realize that growth is not just about strength, it is about clarity. They stop waiting for rescue because they understand the hard truth: no one is coming.
Conclusion: Face It, Own It, Move Forward
The weight of that realization does not crush them, it frees them. It means that their strength, their future, their path is theirs alone to forge. It means that nothing is owed, and nothing is certain, but everything is within their grasp if they are willing to stand up and take it. In the end, greatness lies not in victories but in the refusal to be defeated by one's own failings. Real growth begins not when a person blames the world for their troubles but when they turn inward and confront the only foe that truly stands in their way: themselves. And when they overcome that foe, they discover a strength that no setback, no failure, can ever take from them.
They become unbreakable, not because they have not fallen but because they have risen every time they have. In that rising, they find their true selves, individuals forged in fire, tempered by failure, and made strong by their own resolve to never give up.
When you finally stand, it won't be because the world made space for you. It will be because you took your place in it.
Not because the path was cleared, but because you carved it yourself. Not because someone else lifted you, but because you chose to rise despite the weight pressing down. Strength is not granted. It is not inherited. It is built through struggle, through defiance, through the refusal to stay down.
Because no one is coming.
And no one ever was.
But that was never the point.
