Tagline: Even gods falter. Even heroes break.

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Dear Diary,

It’s been a week since my little detour to Asgard.

A week since Loki kissed me.

I refuse to dwell on that.

(But I do find myself checking my office door... just in case.)

Anyway—today’s client?

Superman.

Yes. That Superman.

The Man of Steel, the Last Son of Krypton, the symbol of hope.

Sitting in my office.

Looking... tired.

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Client: Clark Kent / Superman

Reason for Therapy: “Just here to talk.”

Session Start: 12:05 PM

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Superman.

The cape and symbol create a certain image, you know?

Invincible. Unshakable. Unbreakable.

So imagine my surprise when he sighed.

Not a dramatic sigh.

Not an annoyed sigh.

Just... a tired one.

---

Clark Kent, Not Superman

"So... what brings you here?" I asked, settling in.

He gave a small, polite smile. "I guess I just needed someone to talk to."

He was so polite.

So normal.

If it weren’t for the ridiculous broad shoulders and the fact that he literally floated into my office, I’d think I was just talking to some overworked journalist from Metropolis.

"I assume you have friends for that?" I prompted.

"I do," he admitted. "But... they see me as Superman first. Clark second."

Ah.

I tapped my pen against my notepad.

"And which one are you right now?"

He blinked, startled by the question.

Then—a slow exhale.

"Clark."

---

The Weight of Being a Symbol

It took a little prodding (read: a lot), but eventually, he opened up.

"I don’t get to be ‘just Clark’ very often," he admitted. "I feel like I have to be Superman all the time. Always strong. Always right. Always... good."

I nodded. "That sounds exhausting."

He huffed a laugh. "It is."

Then—he hesitated.

"Sometimes... I wonder if I’m doing the right thing."

That caught my attention. "You, the ‘Boy Scout’ of superheroes, question that?"

"I have the power to stop wars," he said, voice quiet. "To end conflicts before they even begin. But I don’t."

I leaned forward. "Because?"

"Because that’s not my choice to make."

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The Dilemma of Power

"Clark..." I chose my words carefully. "You’re afraid of crossing a line, aren’t you?"

He nodded. "I have to be careful. If I step in too much, I become a tyrant. If I don’t step in enough, people die."

"So, either you’re a dictator or you’re neglectful."

"Pretty much."

I scribbled something down in my notes.

"Have you ever wanted to just... let go?" I asked.

He hesitated.

That told me everything.

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Clark’s Greatest Fear

"What are you afraid of, Clark?"

He swallowed.

Then, softly—

"Becoming what people fear I might be."

I stopped writing.

Because that was it, wasn’t it?

Clark Kent, Superman, the world’s greatest hero...

Was terrified of himself.

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Session End: 1:32 PM

By the end of our session, he seemed lighter.

Still Superman.

But also Clark.

"Thank you," he said, standing. "This helped."

"You’re welcome, Mr. Kent."

He smiled at that.

Then, as he left—

The walls shook.

Not metaphorically.

Literally.

Because Superman took off at superspeed, and my poor office was not built for that.

I sighed, rubbing my temples.

I need to start charging extra for property damage.

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Notes to Self:

Superman is too polite. Feels unnatural.

A perfectionist to an unhealthy degree.

Afraid of his own power. That’s... unsettling.

Get stronger office furniture.

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Dear Diary,

Superman might be the strongest man in the world.

But he’s also just a guy trying his best.