I am the superhero of myself. I’m the one that forces myself to run in the cold rain when I don’t feel like it, or when my body is tired and aching. I’m the one that tells myself to back off when my leg feels like it’s full of broken shards, or my back is stabbing me with pain, and then I am the little voice that says it’s time to get back up again. I’m the one that tells myself to keep going when my legs are on fire, and my lungs are bursting. I take responsibility for this life to give myself every chance to be healthy and happy. I’m the advocate of me. I am the one that shuts down the words of those who have said harmful things that would destroy me. I turn off the video reels of the past, and protect myself from the world of disappointment. And I have hated you. I’ve been critical of you, feared you, and avoided you. That world that crushed my lips in a cruel embrace, that stabbed my back with a steely blade, that spit on my face and beat me with bony fists. You spoke with a surly snarl to bring me down, and laughed at my demise. But now as I run through this rain, I see you walking by and I love you. I love all of you, because today I am Superman, and I run.
Science Fiction Author