You know when Spider-Man would take it upon himself to swing out into the night and save lives, fight crime, and tackle hardships that no normal man could? Would?

There is something that I admire about that. But at the same time, what the heck would Mary Jane do? She’d be at home, wishing she could just spend just one night with her boyfriend. Fiancé. Husband.

And when he’d climb back in through the window at the crack of dawn for a few hours rest, blood-stained and wore out completely, all she could feel was selfish and guilty. Selfish for being the one wishing that this man could hold it in, that need to save lives, so that she could spend time with him. And guilt of being willing to trade people’s lives for a little time with someone she loves.

Tonight, I spent some time in Mary Jane’s shoes. A conflicted wreck of a person, wishing that it wasn’t selfish to hold someone back from the lives they save. It’s hard. A conflict beyond black and white. On one side, this hero deserves a normal life. A life free of responsibility from time to time. On the other hand, no one else was taking it upon themselves to put things right. How can you fault someone for taking up a duty beyond that which is bestowed upon them?

I couldn’t. I tried. I really did. I threw a fit. I begged. I reasoned. But the stubborn belief that what’s right is right… that resolve that this hero had, I can’t fault them for. I can admire the hell out of them for it. But I can’t fault them for it.

The truth is, reader, that when Spider-Man zipped off into the night, he chased people away from him. Not just the bad guys who were running from a good spider-powered punch to the face, but the people who needed him around just to chat, just to be present, just to be. A Hero doesn’t get that normal life. A Hero doesn’t get to enjoy the little things like a Motion City Soundtrack concert. They come back weary, beaten, and bloody to, God willing, a person who understands. A lonely person, yeah, but a person who understands.