He is one of the richest people I have ever met.
He does not come from old money or new money—can’t offer you a loan or cover the bill. He does not have a handsome salary, does not have enough to entertain the idea of philanthropy, no lavish leisure or flamboyant attire. Does not offer much power and influence. Not pure and innocent or washed up, not old school or new school, not even much of what lies between.
He is, however, overflowing with sincere kindness, honesty and incredible reliability when his service is in need. He takes these things seriously because he wants to be taken seriously but when taken too seriously; his anxiety pushes him to react in strange ways. Heavy lies the crown, that kind of thing.
He occupies his time with plenty of hobbies and indulges in the (more than) occasional vice, yet has admirable self-control.
He does not wait to see if people will like him, does not question whether or not he will like someone. He just goes about his shy, quiet self and will surprise you with his calculated witty humor. He gets so quiet, you’d think he’s mute.
His biggest fear is that one day, “it” will all be over and he’ll have nothing to show for it. Yet, he’s still trying to figure out what this “it” really is and if it’s worth fighting for.
He does from time to time get rattled up with crippling self doubt when the thought of being a burden on his friends and family comes to light. You know the feeling; to be the person no one is rooting for.
And for him, everyone cried.