My hero

16 May 2010

He came out of nowhere and saved my arse when I had gotten myself into a rather precarious situation. This instantly elevated him to the status of hero. Not just any hero, of course, but one of almost divine proportions. I mean, don't we all need that kind of hero?

In the months that followed, I thought about what had happened a lot. I thought about him a lot, and none of his glory diminished at all. I could picture every tiny detail of his face. I still remembered the exact timbre of his voice, as I recalled the things he said to me.

Last week, I saw him again. He was somehow different, and yet he was still the same. We talked about what had happened, that first time we met, and things finally fell into perspective. The trouble I perceived myself to be in at that time, never really existed. At the same time, the situation was even more serious than I realised, but in a very different way.

During the few minutes we spoke, my hero changed. When we each went our own ways again, my Divine Superhero had turned into an ordinary man, who simply did something extraordinary at a time when this was needed.

Oh, he's still a hero in my book, and probably always will be. A hero of human proportions, and I'm fine with that. It's alright to have our heroes. In the end, I think we all need them. But we also need to be able to see our personal heroes as ordinary human beings. It's better that way.