Loving Superheroes

I have been thinking about this for many days and I'm just tired enough to write it all out. It probably won't make any sense at all...

Imagine you've fallen in love with Batman (or the hero of your choice). He's brave, he's strong, he's sexy; he can do things that are impossible for "normal" people to do. He fights bad guys, he has awesome gadgets, and he looks amazing in his cape and cowl. And for a while, loving Batman is adventurous and exciting. You admire him, you idolize him, you are enthralled by him. You would do anything for him.

But at the end of the day, he comes home and takes off his mask. Suddenly, he's not the person you fell in love with. He's an orphaned kid with a load of emotional baggage, a man who's driven to his heroic accomplishments by pain. Perhaps that's his real super power: being able to turn his anguish into the physical strength to do what is necessary. But that broken boy, made more broken by the every day struggle against evil, has nothing left in the end to give. And soon, you find that you expect too much of him. 

"For God's sake, Batman, you can fight off twenty men at once but you can't pick up the right box of cereal? I told you three times."

"You can remember the names of every criminal in Arkham, but the anniversary of when we met, that's not important enough for you?"

"You can exchange witty banter with evil super villains but you won't talk to me. I don't even know who you are anymore."

Do you really believe that he can devote his time to saving Gotham, and be there for you in the way that you need? You've fooled yourself into thinking he could, because you believed that he was something more than he really is. You mistook the mask for the man.