akaCLL

Hero.

A unique ability to position ourselves among the masses, to identify contrast and to ponder our place in this world; they say that this has been conferred to the human race alone. So it comes as no surprise that as we attempt to discern our outline we look outward, and it turns out that more often than not what we come to be is a series of what we have wanted to be, in varying extents of success. What we have seen in others, qualities that somehow draw us in because of a burning recognition of our own lack, an attraction to brighter and better, an innocent tender voice calling out - "that's what I want to be when I grow up".

Only growing up is an endless journey, and along the way we change our minds and the destination accumulates nuance. That is not to say that we have not achieved, have fallen behind on chasing after the zip and zoom of that red cape, all that might and glory. For in the chase we have learnt to pave our own path, have learnt of our own strengths and weaknesses, perhaps have gotten pulled in the direction of another beautiful prospect and superpower. 

But what are we to say when the red cape falls and we are startlingly aware of the human behind the mask? Of their own transience, their own susceptibility to the whims of fate -- where does that leave us? I like to think along the idea of how no force is created nor destroyed. Even when the hero has been lost we continue hurtling in their direction, breathe in what they have expended, and our horizon will always have theirs, somehow. We pick up pieces that we most adore and keep them in our pockets. They are memories and emblems of 'what I want to be when I grow up', that timeless journey.

I always wonder what they'd think; those whose fairy dust I have collected and mixed in with mine. I always wonder how I could possibly put into words their influence, their eternal etching on my skin; but it is precisely because it has been so intertwined in the web of who I am that it has become quite ineffable. So I settle with the hope that knowing and remembering them in my heart is sufficient; to speak their name when I act in their memory, to share with others the pieces of them I so love.

To ponder our place in this world, to be so aware of our mosaic whole, is to both be threatened by our brokenness, and be reassured that there'd always be a place. For another piece no matter what shape and size, for more love or for more strength in pain.

Thank you Tharsh for your prompt. xx