Don’t tell me my heroes are flawed. There’s already so much wrong with the world—I don’t want to look for shadows under the streetlight. I want to believe the best of people—is that so wrong? I know they’re not perfect, but I don’t want to say it aloud. Or if it they are flawed, let it be a flaw that makes their achievements more remarkable, because they overcame it. Let Batman be proud, that he may humbly take the fall for Harvey Dent. Let the Doctor be angry, because he cares for his friends. Let Boromir be greedy, because he defended Frodo from the Orcs. But don’t tell me that Superman never picks up his dirty socks, that Harry Potter has messy handwriting, because then they wouldn’t be heroes.
They’d be people:
just like me.
