The Tale of Almost Alvin

 
boy-face-clipart-clipart-panda-free-clipart-images-24uUXD-clipart.png
 

Alvin held high high expectations. Expectations for every he or she that he knew, including the he that was he, Alvin.

High expectations were not an easy thing to hold, not a joyful thing to hold. No. Because it was sad yet truthful to say that not one single he or she ever quite lived up to Alvin’s high expectations, including the he that was he, Alvin. Especially that he, yes that he most of all.

Sad, sad.

Each day Alvin tried it all all over again. Oh sure, he went out into the world of shes and hes all over again with hopes held high high, expecting to find the perfect someone else to like, somewhere-somehow. Surely there was one she somewhere who happily would listen and listen whenever he spoke every anything at all, a she who would converse only in smart (and brief) remarks, a she who would prove most charmful and most loveful and who craved to cook for Alvin, yes, to cook very very well.

And surely there was a he somehow who would just want to pal around, yes, around whenever and wherever Alvin wanted a pal, a he who would prove a loyal buddy and a best most generous friend.

But no and no. No such she or he ever quite turned up as the days and years shimmered past Alvin.

Almost, yes, almost sometimes – every now and then. Until the new disappointment set in and another almost friend was lost.

There was the she who worked in the same office building as Alvin, smart and pretty and fun, a she who even craved to cook for Alvin and cooked very very well. They had smart and pretty fun together for some weeks until Alvin suddenly saw some something in she that he had not quite seen until that moment. No, no, this was a she who just talked way too much.

And there was the he who lived in the same condo building as Alvin, a he who wanted a pal and loyal buddy as much as Alvin did. He was a he who always paid more than his share and who always was ready to pal and buddy around at the drop of an instant. They spent many an evening as pals and buddies around and around for some months. Until Alvin suddenly realized something in he that Alvin had not quite realized until that particular instant. No, no, this was a he who was not very smart.

Almost, yes, so close each time. But each time, just in time, Alvin was smart enough to figure these people out before it was too late.

And so, after each almost-time, Alvin had time enough at home alone to further explore his own set of shortcomings, his inadequacies and inconsistencies, his traits that were too much and his abilities that were too little. Oh, yes, Alvin was no less relentless in finding his own lag and lack, the lackluster among a stream of his seeming strengths. No, no, Alvin did not fool Alvin one bit.

For whenever he looked, really looked, for his own failings among those high high expectations, he always found more than one something to see. There was his receding hairline, for one something, and his pudge of belly fat. There was that nasal voice and that annoying girlish gesture with his right hand.

Alvin also saw that Alvin talked way way too much. And Alvin realized that deep down Alvin wasn’t really very smart at all. There just wasn’t much about Alvin that Alvin much liked.

Sad, sad. Sad.

Yet each day Alvin tried it all all over again. Oh sure, he went out into the world of shes and hes all over again with hopes held high high, expecting to find the perfect someone else to like at last, somewhere and somehow.

And why not? Because a perfect someone else who liked Alvin in return, perhaps, might help Alvin to like Alvin a little bit too.

Moral: If we want to like ourselves, we must appreciate others despite their imperfections.