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Kryptonite
Strength. Physically blessed with an abundance of it. Even after my absence from lifting weights for 2 years, it amasses more than many others around me. Mentally and emotionally however, that's a longer story. Just imagine the hero of the story who has a past he hides. Ashamed of his actions and justifies himself by his benevolence across the world. Appealing to the world as some greater than who he feels he has become in his own eyes, he places himself at ease within its balance. Until a beautiful woman came, and touched him but once. He looked at her as her face changed as she looked into his eyes and felt pain like she had been hurt in reality. It was at that moment she felt my pain she could understand me more. Regardless of the numerous people that came before or after, she was, is and will continue to be the only one who understands me. Weak to her touch, overpowered by her presence, succumb to her will, she is the kryptonite of my life that tells me I'm not Superman, I'm only .... me
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