Kal-El

How do you feel when you see this guy sitting alone on the steps outside of the building or in front of the pole across the street?

In those moments, I feel as though I can see the purest form of who he is; I can see the age in which his childhood stopped, and he rapidly became a child in an adult body. Ironically enough, it is when he is quiet and still, that I can hear and see him the most. It is in those moments that I know without a shred of doubt, that I love him innately in profound and almost undetectable ways. When I can see him, I am able to love him in a language that he can understand; most times indirectly and always unmissable.

He is toxic. So am I, we all are, but he is my focal point at the moment. He is toxic, but one can know where, why, and how, when the pieces of his “to know a person, you have to know what they’ve been through”puzzle start to align in a particular order; not necessarily the correct order, but a strategic one nonetheless.

When you begin to analyze, you can understand that even if you wash your hands, zip-up your coat, and wear your hat and gloves, you’re bound to at least get a stuffy nose or a little tinge in your throat every 1-2 years, no matter how brolic your immune system is. You’ve simply built up an immunity to what you once perceived; we’re all still vulnerable and at risk to the unknown.

When I can see him, I can see just where he tried and was successfully able to protect himself, and then I can see areas of susceptibility where spores of the most microscopic level were able to breach and begin to retrograde as well as retranscribe.

As superhuman as he is, he has moments where he feels as though he has lost his super and being human is all that he can muster at the moment; which takes maximum super strength all on its own.

When and where does Superman get to be just Clark, when the world is on fire, and his glasses are broken and the pieces randomly scattered?

When the pieces start to particularly align, I can see where he gets to be the exception to the rule, I can understand why, and I can wholeheartedly empathize with the need to listen, quietly, and attentively.

When I tilt my head slightly to the left and look at those pieces from an obscured angle, I can see that his areas of toxicity are actually battle scars, infected and unattended wounds, and learned tactics of warfare in order to make it out alive; which have made him tired, but kept him alive at least.

I’ve only ever known how to be super, I was never given the option of downgrading myself to such churlish antics of those on a human level.

Then I slipped and fell hard enough to shatter my backbone…

I wasn’t forced to get up…

I wasn’t left alone to rot…

I wasn’t tossed aside…

I wasn’t ridiculed

Into something unknown and essentially forgetting how to be super; completely and undeniably human.

A lot of things broke my heart but fixed my vision. Love is not a force or a feeling, it is a tool; tools get the job done. I don’t suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.

You move differently when you understand your power. Never confuse what you’re offered with what you’re worth. Define yourself or be defined.