Who Knows? Not I.

There is a man. Many of you have known him, yet you sometimes forget to acknowledge him. Some of you may not know him. But he is not attractive enough for you to get to know. His sorrows know no boundaries. His self-doubt never ceases to overpower the soul, that burns bright deep within the body. The body that is hard to miss, but for some, even harder to touch. And why is that? Is it because this body isn't perfect? Or because it can cast the reflection, of your own imperfections? Who knows? Not I. No, not I. Not he who has been described as too nice. And how can one be too nice? Is it because his father taught him how to be a man? Or because his mother taught him how to be a gentle man? Who knows? Not I.

But what is to become of this man? What if one day, he no longer sees the tainted reflection in the mirror, he has come to call himself? What if one day, he begins to resemble, that man in your dreams? And what if, at that time, he no longer acknowledges you? Would you feel betrayed? Scorned? Or would you just be disappointed? My friend, you know of no disappointments. Disappointment is having the one you desire, tell you that you're everything they could ever want, yet still choose another. Disappointment, is having the talents to escape your daily monotony, yet telling yourself, you will never make it. That is disappointment. That is BEING a disappointment. Or is it? Who knows? Not I.

Above this man shines a moon. A moon so bright, it could rival any smile except that of the Lord. On this night. A night which possesses a breeze so crisp, that it could slice a sheet of paper in half. There is a smell in the air. A smell of acceptance. The acceptance of the fact, that there are things we wish to change. But yet, they will not change, until we set the chain of events in motion, that will break the shackles of self-doubt. In a world filled to it's brim with uncertainty, the only thing we can be sure of, is that no day is ever the same. We may engage in the same routine, and have the same feelings as the previous day. But no day is ever truly the same. Because it is on each day, you have the power to start anew. It is on each day, that you may look yourself in the mirror and say, I am not the same person I was yesterday. No, today I am a BETTER person.

And as surely as that moon set, a sun slowly rose. And as the sun sat atop the morning sky, the clouds were pink as if they were blushing. As they looked down on a man, who is not attractive in the eyes of others, but is slowly becoming attractive to himself. As we walked into his empty house, he smiled, and wondered. What does my future hold? Will I find that special person everyone dreams of finding? Or is it the search for that person that makes us all better in the end. But who really knows the answer? You want to know who knows? Not I.