there was a time when he thought that the question wouldn't present itself to him. he was, after all, exceptional; or that's how it had seemed at the time. but somehow it got to him, caught him by surprise when he least expected it; and as it had he had realized in an instant that this was it. from that moment on there had not been a single moment when he wouldn't have been aware of its existence; and what was worst, he knew that the question was entirely and completely justified.
and as he puts on the mask of what he is the knowledge of what he is not is there; again he recognizes what he has become even if he doesn't know what he wanted to be. but what is certain is that the distance between the two is no longer within the limits of his comprehension, and the recognition of this truth makes him ashamed of himself. and yet he does nothing to close the gap, and after a while the question withers and finally shrinks; but it does not die, or go away, and the guilt his incapability to answer it raises in him makes him feel sick.
