Well, it's finally happened. I've legitimately erred, in your eyes. Not egregiously, but enough to destroy any lingering vague notions of near-perfection or near-infallibility. It's not all too surprising, I suppose. It was bound to happen eventually, and I've been slipping as of late, though I know not why. ****
You know, I'd grown used to being a big fish in a small pond long ago. I never thought much of it, as I was all too aware of the size of the ocean, and that's to say nothing of the cosmos beyond. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the vapor of local fame upon my face, but I did not and do not place much value in the approval of others, save of those who have been to the ocean. Why then, do I give so much weight to this other, relatively inexperienced opinion? Why do I work so hard to maintain this flimsy, undeserved reputation as the biggest fish in the eyes of but one other?
Despite the dangers that dwell there, both timeless and modern, there truly are plenty of fish in the sea. Strange that, though I'd been to the deep blue before and seen its wonders and encountered many beautiful creatures out here, that I should still choose to spend my time with one from the same backwater swamp that spawned me. Perhaps I am attracted to the familiarity. Perhaps I simply admire that the mercury in the water has only made them more resilient. Perhaps some homing mechanism within my genome has been activated, urging me to swim upstream with my own kind, long before I have even acclimated to the saltwater.
Perhaps it is because I know she will thrive out here and I would do well to watch and learn.
**** Yes, there are moments where I slip up and screw up and fall short and fall flat.
And there are moments where I do not accomplish what I set out to do, despite my best efforts.
And there are moments when other men are capable of besting me.
And-- as selfish and weak and unforgivably normal as it makes me seem-- there are moments when I wish I could possess you, and only you. Infrequent and brief as they may be, their existence causes such guilt-ridden agony that most people who aren't you wouldn't believe it.
But you already knew that, didn't you? Why then, can I not shake this feeling of disillusionment? Why don't I believe it when you say you are not disappointed?
No. You aren't disappointed. I've done nothing to truly diminish your perception of my size. You've just seen the ocean, is all.
