In times of pressure and stress, my mind drifts back to the idea of a mask. The helmet is close perhaps, but when that looming darkness stretches, threatening to overwhelm me? It’s hard not to think of them. What they present, how one looks at you when you wear one. Where a person beneath slides away, and all that remains is the visage they wear.

To some, it may seem simple. If you just take it off, you can go back to being your normal self. Two lives, two faces, and none of the problems that come with either. But we know better, don’t we? That no matter how much you want to take that mask off, it becomes part of you. Stuck to who you’ve become.

And you made it so easy to boot. Just whip on a performing smile, slip behind a yellow suit, and Mr. Sunshine comes rocking out like the day is long. You have the persona, the charm, and the wit of it all to help give hope to the youngest of Arcadia. And yet, with a smile comes more than just kindness. It dominates, speaks in tongues that never had to be said aloud.

Which means that the mask of Sunshine comes out with every smile.

You can’t drop it, go back to being someone else. When all that hides you is a smile, what’s left beneath it? Because the truth is, without Mr. Sunshine? There’s not much left. Just a hollow, bitter laugh, and a face that holds nothing beneath it.

But hey, that’s not what the world needs to see, right? No truths, nothing to hide, just the bitter carcass of one who’s been content to let the world rage to an end for nothing. If you’re behind the mask you made, you can’t see that bloody bow. You don’t have to remember the way Ollie looked up to you, trusted you in a world that only sought harm for him.

In the end, it took everything from him when all you had to do was drop the mask.

Herculean efforts just need that single step for the most part. A push, sometimes a single step or a helpful push. But that effort to let the mask down makes it all the worthwhile. To be able to show your face, the real you to the world. It can make all the difference in your life. It did for me.

When I let the mask go, I was freer than I had ever been as Python. Gone was a legacy that held me down. Freedom was found with a push, and the search for the mask giver.

There’s a reason I gave you Ollie’s bow. I want you to remember it every time you aren’t sure. That tacky sensation of the blood coagulating on it, the dark red that stained it. You couldn’t give it up, and someone had to pay that price. It leaves just one question.

Will you let it happen again?