Existential Hero

He carried the uncertainty of a man who was often caught deciding whether to fold his legs or cross them in public. Fear turned him into a poser. He spent too much time looking in the mirror, yet not long enough to find himself in the distant brown eyes that stared back at him. At some fork in the road of his life, he had buried that person under the shame of what he thought he had become: The hull of a man he once knew. Would it cost more to retrace his steps or go forth into the abyss? Would it matter?