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Scout on Standards/Hidden Strength

          I tried this time. At least I can say that, confidently. And yet I reach no consensus on who I want to become. It seems the fairer I am to myself, the fewer people I have around me. Again, I ask myself, what have I done wrong? What do the ripples in my reflection mean? It must be me; if everyone around me leaves, it can’t always be them. Maybe my breath secretes something poisonous. Maybe my voice explodes eardrums. Or maybe I am just so insufferable that my presence itself is suffocating.

            But then I remember all the times I stood by them, in hell and heaven. I remember feeling their suffering, and always being concerned for their well-being. So, I cut my heart out to save them, but I found that they never needed it in the first place. I am the fool for not being sure; what with the fact that they never had one. I clean their wounds and stitch them up, and once they are well enough they fly away back to those that can give them a laugh.

            I disappear; they ask why have you flown away? Who shall I flock back to when I need a wing lowered? Who will stitch my wounds? I feel guilty for flying away on my own as they had done countless times. They would leave for better company; I leave for no company. Yet I am still to blame, I am still the damaged factor, and I am still the one whose fault will fall on no matter what nest I rest in.

            After time passed, I understood that the flaw was not in me. Just as a thief looks to the shiniest jewel, people look to the shiniest person. They want the best person to flaunt; to know them just to say they own them. I am not very shiny, nor is anyone capable of owning me. I’ll always be in the wind, in the stars, in the water, but never in their minds. I know that they will never seal the deal, and for that I am grateful.

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