I was the tall one. I towered over him. Over everyone. But they don’t see height; they see projection. They want the loudest voice to be the leader, the one who pounds the table and shouts. But leaders aren’t loud. Leaders think. Leaders know. Leaders wait.

I waited.

Eric had his plans, his fury, his short fuse. He was the spark, sure. But a spark is nothing without something to burn. A match doesn’t light itself, doesn’t choose where to fall. That’s where I came in. The plans, the lists, the calculations—all of it ran through me. My height wasn’t just physical; it was the vantage point. I saw farther than he could.

The truth is, I carried the weight. Every hallway we walked, every conversation we had, I was the one who kept things moving forward. Not because I wanted to, but because someone had to. The leader isn’t the one who yells. The leader is the one who knows when to stay silent.

They’ll never admit it. It’s easier to blame him, to say he corrupted me. To say I was the follower, the weak one. I let them think that. I let them think a lot of things. It’s what a leader does.

But I was tall. I was tall in the way they didn’t see. My shadow stretched over all of it. When Eric wanted chaos, I gave it direction. When he wanted destruction, I gave it purpose. I made the map. He just followed it.

They say the tall ones stand out. But sometimes, they don’t. Sometimes, the tall ones know how to shrink themselves just enough to stay out of sight.

Because being tall isn’t just about height. It’s about the view. And I saw everything.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5660156&forum_id=2).#48526484)