To be Atlas is a lonely existence 

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I’m fine. I got the news today that he passed, but it’ll be okay because, life. We got into a fight last night and I’m feeling broken and worthless, but that’s my burden to carry. How are you and how was your day?

I’m fine.

How’s the weather? Tell me about your troubles. Let me hold them for you. You’re screaming at me and nothing I do is enough for you, but if I close my eyes it’ll be just another bad dream.

 

How are you? Me? Oh I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Did you see that episode last night? Who do you think did it? The funeral is today and I’m not ready. I’m anxious and frightened, but I don’t want to trouble you. You say you’re having a bad day? Yes I’ve got a minute to talk; what’s wrong?

I’m fine.

 

I’m fine and I’m finding myself talking about it. I’m fine and I feel the need to tell you. I’m fine and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m fine and I’ve spent my nights crying.

I’m fine.

 

Only, perhaps I’m not. And that’s okay.

Won’t you hold me too?

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