Him Meeting Him

HHe was in recovery…

Recovery from the mistakes he made

and the realization of who he was…

Flawed…

He became adept at couching his true intentions in goodwill…

So much so that he believed in his own altruism even though he thought the concept to be a lie we tell ourselves about ourselves so that we wouldn’t hate ourselves…

He was recovering from the realization that it wasn’t his reflection that was distorted but instead it was his vision…

He knew/knows that even the worst of us couldn’t survive if we understood just how terrible we are in reality,  so we adjust the frame and ignore mirror…

We hide the ugly pictures in pretty filters and call it art…

He was recovering from the reality that he had to reconcile himself with himselfl

                                                                                             himself with her…

                                                                                             himself with them…

                                                                                             himself with lost time…

He was recovering from the realization that his best self may consist of simply being good enough…

Good enough to keep what he had all along…

Good enough for what he had to want to keep him…

He fell for his own good guy

                             nice guy

                             gentleman aesthetic

when in truth he was equal parts amazing and pathetic…

                                                    real and synthetic…

But he could only recover for but so long…

He couldn’t wipe the scars away…

                         his or otherwise…

All he could ask was that the wounds close and write his life story on the jagged edges

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