To: yikes!izzy
Date: Saturday, March 3—11:36 AM
Subject: atlas
Dear Isabel,
My whole life, I’ve had this feeling like I was the one holding everything together. After my dad left when I was six, I somehow knew I was the only thing that could make my mom stop crying. I could sing a stupid song or tell her a joke or draw her a picture and she’d come back to the world, she’d come back to me. She was the one who got to be sad and lonely and stressed out, like she was the only one who got left, and I had to be the one to relieve her of those feelings. I had to be the reason she’d even want to be relieved of those feelings. It’s a role I’m used to, and I guess that’s the role I took with you, too. The solid one. The stable one. The one who’s always trying to save you.
But it’s hard to have your own feelings when you’re always busy worrying about someone else’s, when everyone’s counting on you to be happy and dependable. I’ve always had this fear that if I ever got too confused or sad or got in too much trouble, my mom would fall apart, like somehow I was responsible for holding her together. And if she fell apart, then everything would fall apart. So basically, I was like this little tiny Atlas holding the world on my kid shoulders, and I’m still doing it, and the world is still heavy, and it’s getting heavier and heavier every day you’re gone. And I don’t think I can hold on much longer. I’m afraid I’m going to let go, and the world is going to come crashing down and smash into a million pieces until all we have is rubble and we have to pick through the ruins looking for signs of life.
Love,
Connor