Even heroes have the right to bleed

One for each of us.

Happy Mother's Day.

Love Clark, Zoe and Baby

Mourning is selfish. Clark knows this. He’s been through it enough times to know that when something is lost it doesn’t care. Sometimes, they never did to begin with, as abstract as those things can be. And if they’re people, well, then they’re usually dead and the dead don’t mourn. The dead don’t grieve. A relationship doesn’t know it’s broken beyond repair, that a love that once was can never be again.

But is it pity? Clark doesn’t think so. For the people left behind mourning may be selfish, but it’s necessary. It’s part of the healing process, he’s come to accept, and in those cases, well, you have to be a little selfish. Because if you’re not, you’ll go crazy. You’ll end up losing yourself and more often than not, that’s worse than losing whatever it was you lost to begin with.

So Clark allows himself to mourn the things and people he’s had to let go of over the years, to grieve for anything and everything that was important to him that he no longer has, or never had to begin with. It helps. Eventually.

But in doing so, you also have to take stock of what you still have, appreciate what’s still around you. Especially the people who are there to help with your grief. Dwelling isn’t good for anyone, no matter what it is that was lost. Another lesson he’s had to learn the hard way. At least he’s learned it.

Mourn. Grieve. Accept. Move on. But never forget.

Clark has never felt the cold. Not really, anyway. Heat, yes, as he was powerless for almost a whole summer a few years ago and he finally got to experience what it was like to really feel the sun beating down on your face. And to sweat, which wasn't the most fun thing ever, but at the time, he couldn't have cared less, so long as he was 'normal'.

But the cold, not so much. Which is really kind of odd considering he's spent so much time in the arctic. Occasionally, he wonders what it feels like, but most of the time it's something he doesn't even think to think about. It's just the way he's always been.

Occasionally, he wonders if what he felt while his father kept him captive in the Fortress for a month was cold, or if that was just numb anger. Clark doubts he'll be asking anytime soon, not will he be requesting a chance to find out what cold really is from his father. They may have reached a sort of understanding, but trust is still a long ways off.

For the time being, Clark is simply going to be thankful he doesn't have to deal with temperature extremes – on either end of the scale. It's a distraction he's never been aware of and given all the other ones he's had to learn to deal with? He can handle life without ever knowing.

You Are a Leopard Print

You are vain, but you also have a lot to be vain for. You are definitely a stunning creature. You have a keen sense of observation, and you like to watch and learn before you act. You are highly sensitive, and it's easy for you to be affected by the world around you. Deep down, you need to be taken care of, even though you may not admit it. You need love as much as anyone else does.

...okay, then.

Ten years ago, I was 12 years old and let me tell you, life was a lot simpler back then. I knew I was different, but it didn't seem to matter so much and no one knew about it. It wasn't that big of a deal unless Dad really needed my help on a big farm job. I had no idea what my heritage really was and there was definitely no pressure or stress over it. Sure, it was still annoying at times, like when Dad wouldn't let me go out for any sports team, let alone football, but most of the time I pretty much felt normal.

I was still in Smallville Elementary and Chloe Sullivan had just come into my life. Which makes that age pretty special. Not only did we become the best of friends, but I also got my first kiss on that day. I guess you could say back then I was a pretty lucky guy.

My favourite activities included camping out in Pete's backyard, growing out of my clothes faster than Mom could mend them and helping out at the Farmer's Market. My parents had just started letting me do that when I was 10, so it was still a pretty major thing for me at 12.

Everything was so much easier back then, back when I didn't know, when no none knew. But it couldn't have lasted, so I'm happy I've got the memories I do of that time.

It's that time again. Gone from basically now until sometime Saturday afternoon. Be nice to the internets while I'm gone.

Happy Holidays!