A person’s true identity can often be difficult to discern. Even to themselves. Causing one to question their character, their calling, their very existence. For most, time provides clarity. But for others, these questions remain unanswered. For an identity cannot be fully defined when it’s a guarded secret.
You need to give the monster an identity. It’s only when the monster becomes someone else, something else, that you’re free to be Oliver Queen.
We’re not ghosts. What we lost doesn’t define us. Maybe what we do. Maybe. Or maybe what we’re running from.
We all come from somewhere. We carry that place with us wherever we go. That never leaves our hearts. Not entirely.