Epiphany

It is strange how I can build someone or something up in my head, so that it almost becomes monstrous, without there being much reason for all of the analysis and dread and dislike. Then, in one short space of time, a fog will lift (or sanity will return) and suddenly i realize with distinct clarity, that all of my fretting was for naught, that the object of my gut-wrenching anxiety was really nothing (William) in the big scheme of things. That it was not a bogeyman, but an insecure child worthy of my pity and goodwill, not my dislike. That the shininess of someone might upon closer inspection be a little rusty, too.

I am sorry i misjudged, but more sorry that I doubted myself.