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My Superman
My superman doesn't wear a cape. Only the spandex if he really wants to; wants to see the smiles, hear the laughter; wants to be whoever he chooses. He doesn't even wear a mask; not one that you can see, anyway.
I didn't believe in heroes not so long ago. I didn't believe in true love or happy endings, but most of all in heroes. I did believe in heroes, once upon a time, and I idolized those people who, in reality, are just like you and me, until they came crashing down from their thrones and I found that they were human too. I didn't realize until yesterday, that he had changed my mind about heroes. It was yesterday, that I understood what a hero really was.
Heroes aren't people with money; with glitz and glammor; with hearts of stone. Real heroes are real people; who sweat and bleed; who fight; who laugh and cry; with hearts that beat and love and break, just like the rest of us. I stopped believing in heroes because I subscribed to an idol who didn't exist. So why the change of heart?
My hero doesn't wear a superman suit. He wears a smile, and a laugh, and his heart on his sleeve. Occasionally I've seen him hide it; the mask that hides the heart of gold is only a smile and a lighthearted laugh. That's it. Nothing special, so we think. But he is special. At least to me. He made me believe in heroes again; in people who will fight for what is good; people who care about you; who will make you laugh, wipe the tears from your eyes; comfort you and keep you company. I didn't believe in true friends, either; the kind that seemed to exist only in fairy tales. I wish you could meet my hero one day; someday I should tell him how much I owe him, for saving me from a world without heroes. Someday I will tell him how much I love him. We all love our heroes, after all; just not all of us have the chance to tell them so, and to know that they love us in return.
Who knows, maybe someday he'll even wear the cape?
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