I don’t get it. I’ve lost all focus. All clarity. I’m in the middle of something important, and I’ve lost all ability to concentrate. […] And because I’ve lost focus, I almost don’t hear her.
The one who means more to me than any of it. The one who means more to me than all the men dying in this war — a war that stopped just by my arriving here — and I neither notice nor care.
She doesn’t die. But waiting for that moment… I nearly do. I can’t think of anything except how relieved I am. How happy I feel knowing she’s still with me. How little it matter that what made her fall in love with me. I — Love her, and always have.
Have I brought these things on her? […] Am I helping people?. Protecting them from the evil in the world?. Are bad people the problem?. Or am I?.
How much of this violence exist solely because I exist?
I used to save people from danger. Now I put them in it, simply by being who I am. Like the gunslinger who once helped — then became a magnet for trouble. A part of the problem.
And I’ve been so light and flip about it. Enjoying myself. My Strength. My powers. Am I wrong?. Am I making a mistake? I don’t know.
As I watch her sleep — studying her lungs as they breathe, watching her blood flow, listening to her heart pump loud and strong — I hope I’m not. Because I love who I am, what I can do.
I love being Superman.
I love being Superman for her.
Clark Kent - Action Comics 821. -