Walls 
 
by A.j. 
 
*** 
 
What everyone doesn't understand is that Batman isn't the bad guy. He isn't 
the crazy, driven thing in me that burns. No. That isn't him at all. 
 
Batman has never been emotion. He is dark. He is brutal. He is relentless. 
 
He is my savior. 
 
Batman is control. That's the simplest and most logical way to put it. 
Without Batman, Bruce Wayne would have been locked in an insane asylum. 
Without Batman... 
 
I once heard a very interesting story. Some years ago, I was traveling from 
point D to point G and stumbled across an archeological digest. It wasn't 
anything special. Just another grad student's dissertation on the wheres and 
whatfores of the Great Wall of China. Nothing I hadn't learned in my travels. 
But the thing that caught me in that article, the thing that made the most 
impact was in a tossed off sentence towards the beginning. The author, Byers 
or Myers or something, said that to China, the wall did not just represent 
protection from the outside. To them, it was a border. A limitation. A 
necessary one though. No man's empire was ever meant to grow too great. And 
by caging it or limiting it, that empire would be all the more glorious. 
 
Batman is my Great Wall. He is the cage that keeps my rage from escaping and 
destroying all that I love. Because I do love. I love the way that I hate. 
Completely. But Batman knows. How can he not? He knows that my love can 
easily turn - reverse itself like the winds on a cloudy day. 
 
I've always wondered what it was like to be normal. To be able to shut these 
extremes down by yourself. To smile at a woman, love her, and be able to 
watch as she walks away. And not to physically have to hold myself back from 
ripping her head off. 
 
I want to know what it's like to be able to let my children's injuries go. To 
laugh about a scar. Or even smile at an aching joint. I want all of these 
things. But they are not mine to have. 
 
It's getting harder these days. To not give in to the anger. The futility. 
There is a danger, you see. Batman is not infallible. He is a creation of my 
own mind. But he is not perfect. How can he be? 
 
Batman is my wall. I built him, and in a way, he built me. But in the end, he 
cannot be enough. 
 
China was great once. It was beautiful and prosperous. Everyone had food, and 
money. There were problems, yes, but she was glorious. She was beautiful and 
right. But just as I am starting to, China rotted. Her Great Wall changed. It 
kept her in more than it kept others out. I feel that happening to me. 
 
And it's all I can do not to let Batman pull the trigger.