People were trying to tell him he was a genius, only from an outside perspective was that true. He was trapped. Trapped in the facade of being what everyone wanted him to be. The perfect student, the perfect athlete, the perfect son. Son. Yeah that was it. Moving through his life as a bag in the wind, less a human, more an effigy of self. Going forward with what everyone wanted. Be a surgeon. Done. Make money. Done. Be a good husband. Husband. Yeah, that was it. He was trying to go forward with all of these things, because at the end of the dusk, when the night was up and the day had been smoldered, for a second, he thought of “what if?”. He loved his family, right? Looking at his family as more of a bystander than a father. Father. Yeah. That was it. Doing his job – feeling empty and hopeless. Living in…well no, living is the wrong word. Existing in a life where he didn’t feel like he – was – he. But he was, wasn’t he? Yeah. That was it. The body, the hair, the muscle – warped. Wrong. A face unbefitting and unmatching. Older now, the man was stuck. He was never what he wanted. He was rich, successful, but empty. With no one around him and having all his relationships feel like a mile away. Well, they always were, weren’t they? Before the man died, he woke up. It was a dream, no, a nightmare, being a void-filled, empty, sad, disheartened person. Just a hopeless man. Man. No, that will never be it.