The archive of the forgotten

atlas is scared again

I look at the old picture. I was searching for old pictures of my dog but instead stumbled on this one. Two year ago I think. I frown, why do I look......heavy. Why do I think I look more beautiful now that andrew says that I look like a living skeleton. I look in the mirror, I see what he means but I do not want to go back to the way I look on the picture altough it would probably be much more healthy. It makes me feel like I was unattractive, lazy.

I walk to the kitchen. It is not like it once was. I do not want to stay thin, it is just that I am not hungry at all. I do not feel any desire for food, even when i know it is tasty. Eating tires me it is like an obligation. A strange obligation that only makes me feel tired and leaves too much place for thinking while either making the food or eating it. I fire up the pot and start to cut the patatoes for a stew.

I do not even really look at eating like something I need to do. I look at it as something social. Something where a social life can rest on. Family dinner, dinner with friends or loved ones. It is a social standard to eat. Otherwise I might even forget it. Andrew walks into the kitchen. "What are you making Atlas?" He asks. "Irish stew with lamb and patatoes." "And to think that some years ago you would've burned anything that wasn't italian or your mother taught you" I chuckle. "True." I say as I put a part of ciambella in his mouth. "Tasty right. I made it a few hours ago" I say. He nods. "Do you think I look heavy on that picture?" I say with a smile. Begging he'll say that somehow I do so I do not need to worry about it coming back. He looks at it. "Come on atlas, you were as fit as ever there." I feel a tear in my eye as I stir the stew.

"Are you alright?" He says. "Yes, it's the onion of course." I say with a smile. "How hungry are you?" I ask him. "Pretty hungry" he says as he looks on his phone. I try my best to get those words over my lips but I won't say it. I do not want to say it. Saying it makes it real. I am afraid of it, I am so afraid of it. "Andrew I am afraid of....." I burn myself on the hot pan. I bite on my lip as my eyes fill with tears. "Are you alright?" Andrew asks and he looks concerned at my hand. I hold it beneath lukewarm water, "I always am" I say while wanting to burst into tears and throw away all my emotions. I suck on the burn as if it would be possible to stop making it hurt. But I feel myself bite in the burn, It hurts like hell. But it makes me feel something. "Go get our flatmates" I say to Andrew as I turn off the heat.

I look at my plate. The steam is hitting my face and I cannot help but feel naseaos because of the smell. At the end of dinner I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" My best friend, Orion. "You haven't eaten" He whispers. The others walk out of the room because we are going to play cards. "Shall we put the dishes away." he asks. I nod. "But I want you to eat at least this portion" Alright he says while filling a smaller bowl. I smile. Orion knows me too well, I do not know he does it. "Tomorrow we are going surfing alright?" He says while we are putting the dishes away. I turn around. "You need to eat Atlas." I nod, "I know Orion." "But it easier said than done." he adds, knowing I will say that.

I walk outside and look at the sunset as I light my cigarette. Which I shouldn't be smoking. I wanted to try to stop, I am in the process of stopping. but it seems idle. It is an endless cycle of trying to stop with smoking, stop with drinking. Try these new medecines, stop with thinking. Eat healthy, sleep more hours and so on and so forth till is seems utterly useless. Because does it ever help me? Maybe for a period of time and than everything collapses again. Although I have these angels of humans watching over me.

The wind combs through my hair as the cold water is trying to push me off my board. We've been surfing for several hours and now we are looking at the grey skies while the salty water is hiding my tears. The birds flying overhead are fleeing for the cold tempatures back here and going to countries I once called home. I wonder if I might be a bird in my heart. Orion sits up. "Atlas, have you ever thought what would've happened if we would have never met?" I frown. "I don't know what would've happened, I don't think I want to Orion." I say while looking at him. "Have you seen that trending thing? Where they ask themselves if we would be best friends in every universe." I close my eyes. "Orion, in the universe where we aren't friends there is no atlas anymore." I whisper. He nods.  "We could tattoo that sentence" He says jokingly. I chuckle. "Everything Is possible" I say as I sit up and look if there are good waves. "Come on" I say as I spot one.

I am washing my long black hair. I turn off the hot water that comforts my skin with it's scolding tempratures. I wrap the soft towel around my hips and begin to shave. I look in the mirror, I do not recognize myself very well. I do see that I am not healthy but the idea of needing to gain weight wants to make me vomit. I chuckle. And you dare to deny it Atlas, you know very well that it is returning. Orion opens the door wearing a bathrobe. "Do you still have shaving cream...." He looks me up and down. "Atlas, I am sorry for saying this but you look like certain people in history. You look like you are starving yourself." I hand him the shaving cream. "Don't pretend I do not see it Orion. I know what I look like" I say as I study the blackish circles under my eyes. Orion wants to say something but decides not to say it. I smile, I am grateful for it. "Atlas" He says. "You know we care about you right?" I smile at him. "Of course, how could I ever forget?" I say while clutching the sterling silver necklace in my hand.

Another Atlas yeah I know I will be bothering you a lot with him. Next chapter you'll fiind andrew will be a lot more present hopefully. If you want to read anything specific about atlas just comment it!