Welcome to the seventh installment of the EVE Blog Banter , the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux . The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed here . Check out other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!

This month’s topic comes to us from yours truly, and I ask: “What three things haven’t you done in EVE and why? Would you be willing to try one day? Why so? Why not?“

Cytral stared at those of us remaining in Freeform Industries’ Directorship; the number was far less than it had been a month ago. There was a heavy, somber mood filling the meeting room; morale had been low, corporate activities few and far between. Cytral refused to admit it was the end, rather, it was an opportunity for rebirth, to build up the corp anew. Cytral always was the eternal optimist. His attitude was infectious however, and several of the remaining directors were hopeful for better times. I was not one of them.

“Ok, we’re going to need to start cross-training to fill the gaps we’re experiencing, meaning we all may have to do things we’re not entirely comfortable with.” Cytral started.

“First up, is we need a new Industrial Director. With Wordsworth resigning from that position, we’re really feeling the impact financially. Roc, I know you understand the market, and have anonymous contacts for that. Would you be willing to try some industry directly?”

Everyone looked to me, enthusiasm in their eyes.

I shook my head in the negative. “Not my thing, Cy. I have no interest in becoming a factory foreman; my skills are better put to use elsewhere. Best I can do is offer up some datacores to the corp; I’ve got no use for them anyway.”

Cytral nodded. “Alright then. What about assisting Freyla with our mining operations? It’s overwhelming her a bit, and I’m sure you’d enjoy some more Freyla time.” He smirked, and the rest of the directors chuckled.

Freyla Tae was indeed someone I had flirted with since joining Freeform. Then again, so was Cytral until I discovered that despite his soft features and silky hair he was really a guy. Freyla had never responded to my flirtations (though Cy had initially), whether out of awkwardness or simply understanding it was meant lightheartedly I never knew. Besides, my heart was placed elsewhere.

Again, I shook my head emphatically.

“Never even strapped a mining laser onto a hull, Cy; to me that would be an abomination. I fly combat ships. Can’t we just send out some drones for that mind numbing work?” I asked sarcastically.

Cytral sighed. “You’re not making this easy, Roc. We need the help. I need the help. It won’t be permanent; I just need you to roll up your sleeves and give a bit more. Can you do this for me?” Cytral was always one to bear open honesty without ulterior motive. Some misread it as manipulation through guilt, but that wasn’t it. He was just a guy that didn’t like to play games. I respected that.

“What else you got, boss?” I asked.

“Well, what about taking on a more active role in the corporation? I could promote you, give you a fancy title, grant you administrative rights over our hangar bays and monthly managings. That has to be something that interests you, no?” He was starting to sound a little annoyed. Who wouldn’t want more power and influence within a corporation, to be handed the keys to the kingdom so to speak?

I genuinely felt bad at what I said next, but the words were meant.

“I’m just a soldier, Cy. I have no interest in power for power’s sake. I’ve always enjoyed my freedom here to come and go as I please, to do what is required of me without question. You know my military duties are often given with short notice, which makes me somewhat unreliable for any real corporate responsibilities. Being in a more senior position will just put me under more scrutiny, bog me down in a bureaucracy I’m not even interested in. I really am sorry, but I have to decline.”

Cytral stared at me, unblinking, for several moments. I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment I saw, anger, or simple acceptance and processing of what I had said, but the growing silence was becoming awkward.

“Alright, we’ll come back to how you can help, Roc. Anyone else willing to…” Cytral’s voice began to fade to my ears.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Freeform; they had done so much for me and were all wonderful people. I really was just starting to feel that I had outgrown the corp, that my place was elsewhere, that there was more out there for me. Taking on added responsibilities here would just stifle me, tie me down to a commitment I would honour yet retain bitterness and resentment towards. I didn’t think that was healthy for any of the involved parties.

The words of Shakor and Gigaer came to my mind again, words I have heard from many others throughout my life, Live up to your potential. Such a simple sentence, such a daunting life long endeavour.

Maybe one day I would be in a position of power and authority; maybe one day I would be a senior director of a corporation; maybe one day I would be a miner or an industrialist, but not today.

List of participants:

One Man and His Spaceship, Blog Banter 7 – Expanding My Horizon

I am Keith Neilson, EVE Blog Banter #7 – What do you want to do today?

Rifter Drifter, Blog Banter 7: Trinity

Roc’s Ramblings, Blog Banter #7 – The me I am not

Morphisat’s Blog, Eve Blog banter #7 – Treading waters unknown

Sweet Little Bad Girl, Blog Banter 7 – Roads Not Followed

A Mule in EvE, DD, defend against a gank & POS gunning

Inner Sanctum of the Ninveah, Choices

The Wandering Druid of Tranquility, “One, Two, Three…three things….hahahahaha”

The Ralpha Dogs, Road Not Taken… Or Not

Melindhra’s Universe, EVE Blog Banter #7 – Where no one has gone before

Life in Low Sec, Blog Banter #7: Possibilities

EVE Guru, EVE Blog Banter 7

More coming as they are posted!!!

 

THE CONTEST

Not too long ago, I held my first contest here at Roc’s Ramblings, called The Kiss. Details can be found HERE.

CONTEST FEEDBACK

I often implore my readers for feedback. This is for many reasons:

• It helps me gauge interest in current storylines I propose
• It helps me understand what other content my readers wish to see
• It helps me to improve what features are offered on this blog
• It helps me to know which, if any, of my other talents, my readers have interest in
• It helps me manage my time and effort on my far too many hobbies

Now I realize many people are shy, or self-deprecating; God knows I am. I also know many people are lurkers, not ones to really make comments. I hope that changes. I invite you to change it. I don’t bite. I seldom bark. I welcome your comments.

THE WINNER

I’ve ranted long enough. I personally enjoyed each entry. I always find it fascinating how others interpret my character, and when given free rein, what they decide to do with him. Some stay true to my artistic vision. Others, well, not so much.

Congratulations to Manasi, from A Mule In Eve, who wrote a wonderfully erotic and elusive entry to the contest. He has won himself a 3D render of his character to be done by yours truly.

I’ve been reading Manasi’s blog for a while now, especially since it’s part of the EVE Blog Pack, which is conveniently available for FREE on the Capsuleer application for the iPhone(shameless self promotion).

Manasi is a complete ass (mule humour, see what I did there?), but his blogging is interesting, often educational, and generally enjoyable. I do recommend you check it out. 

Manasi, we’ll need to be in touch regarding your prize. Congrats once again.

WINNING ENTRY

Here is Manasi’s entry (edited for grammar, spelling, and a bit of consistency of plot development).

—

The Kiss

Tension flares, ships dive and weave, the speed of battle envelopes the pod, and more precisely its occupant. Thoughts move down the wires and the ships responds with amazing speed. Targets locks, weapons engage; destruction rains. There is a slight lull, communications commence, another pause. Guns spin up and the pod evaporates, withering under heavy fire.

“Stupid ass should have paid me…” Mynxee says. “I don’t get it, why don’t they just pay up? It’s not like it was an exorbitant amount, who doesn’t have 50Million?” she says to nobody in particular, her pumping blood starting to slow.

Shae and Venom chime in over the private fleet comm channel, “Let’s get hammered!”

Her thoughts drift to a lone Colonel Roc Wieler, the strong arms, the quiet aura, the power and the tenderness that inhabit him. The man still is a mystery to her; a forbidden, intoxicating enigma she must unravel.

“Ok” says the CEO of the Hellcats, “Let’s roll.”

Arriving in the Hellcats Pub, she spots the Colonel, sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink. She is immediately perplexed by his unexpected presence.

“I’ll talk to you two later. Sorry.” says Mynxee.

~ Lust ~
Physically wanting to be with her, he gazes at her with great burning intensity. The need, the instatiable need to be with her is maddening. He wants to touch her, taste her, and consume her. The glasses he wears hide this from her and those who can see him, yet she still turns and feels his heat, feeds the heat simply by being. She walks across to him, a seductive smile on her face. All she says is “Hi Roc”.

~ Passion ~
In the corner of the room the two talk quietly, as the night wears on, they draw closer together. The rushing of endorphins flows through their veins. In his head he sees two bodies locked together as if one fits perfectly with the other. His blood pumps faster, passions rise. Fires begin to burn. Contact, as he brushes her sides with his hands, she squeals and whispers, “Don’t you DARE start something you won’t finish Roc!”

“I like to see you squirm” he replies.

~ Desire ~
In the empty regions lives a hungry being. It resolves to satiate itself, yet it cannot be full, no matter what it consumes, it wants more. Energies course through space to the creature, yet it’s yearnings cannot be quelled. Just when it thinks it has enough, the energies subside and it is left, hungry. Mynxee cannot find peace from her monster; she just knows that she must feed it.

“Don’t stop!” she cries out. Energy flows again, the creature is happy.

~ Ecstasy ~
The warmth of her body joined with his, the flow of emotions, the weakening of the door she has around her heart gives a little, and she does not want it to stop. “Keep going.”, she whispers. Roc too feels his defenses crumble. Minutes pass as Roc enfolds Mynxee with his arms; she is his, if just for a little while. She sits atop him, straddling his strong legs.

He looks up with his glasses still on, “Let’s see those beautiful eyes.” she breathes.

Conflict fades, pain no longer exists, imagination takes hold and he is launched into a great unknown.

She urges him gently “keep going…please…oh Roc!”

He whispers back…”I was daydreaming. This is too perfect to be real.”

The tempo is set. At ever increasing intervals he ratchets the tempo up a notch. Sweat mixed with her wonderful perfume envelopes the two.

~Glow~
Coals glow softly, all sleep for now…somewhere deep the monster stretches …still hungry.

FINAL THANKS

I want to give a special thanks to Mynxee as well, for always allowing the trust to make use of her character. I think Manasi did very well with this story, and kept true to the tensions Mynxee and Roc have for each other.

As such, this story will be considered as part of the official “Roc and Mynxee Canon”, if such a thing exists, but we’re going to leave it as a surprise as to when these events will actually occur.

Until next time!

It would seem I wasn’t finished eating humble pie that evening. I’ll admit that given my directed euphoria, my personal revelations as to what my next steps were to meet my goals, that I was foolhardy and frankly quite stupid. 

I had been planning on buying a Sleipnir for a while, and upon checking my NeoCom, noticed I had won an auction for one in a somewhat remote location from my base of operations, Dal.

I had taken a shuttle to the system indicated, and picked up my Sleipnir. I ordered some weapons mounts for it, as well as some other essentials they had in stock, the rest of the fitting waiting back in my personal bays.

All this before meeting with Gigaer for dinner.

Now, dinner since passed, I had fired up the Sleipnir without a crew, figuring that given the late hour and inactivity through both militia channels and New Eden map filtering, that I was safe to transport the ship back to Dal.

On the way, I also stopped at a system where I chanced to have some items waiting for my Firetail. I had also won an auction for a Pith-X X-Large Shield Booster for 1.4 billion isk. I decided to not pick it up that evening, given how out of the way it was at the current time; how serendipitous.

90% of my journey passed uneventfully; two jumps left, Amamake, then Dal.

I gave a quick scan of the militia channels, as Amamake was a cesspool, continually under fire. Militia intel was clean, no hostiles insystem. Still, I should’ve hired a scout, or parked my ship somewhere and taken a quick peek first. Hindsight is 20/20.

I jumped through the connecting gate to Amamake. 

Immediately, Aura highlighted numerous active hostiles in flashing red on my HUD. They weren’t Amarr; they were pirates, Heretic Nation to be exact. I immediately regretted my decision to not contract a crew, nor to completely fit the ship upon picking it up. At the very least, I should’ve loaded in some ammo, or taken any other number of precautions with such an expensive vessel.

It was all pointless now. The decisions I had made were based on prior experiences, and not wanting further expenditures when I had plenty of parts and ammo, as well as faithful crews, awaiting me in Dal.

I was fifteen kilometers from the gate, in a partially fit command ship with no ammunition. I had no afterburner, so no chance of running for the gate. My only choice was to try to warp away to safety.

I picked the celestial object I was most aligned to, knowing I wouldn’t have much time to act, and urged Aura to enter warp.

My ship was too slow, nowhere near agile enough to outperfom the band of pirates that would now feast on me.

I was locked nearly instantly, and couldn’t even offer them a decent fight. I knew my ship was lost, and at this point, it would be fortunate if I were to get away in my pod intact.

I had nobody to blame but myself as the armour began to peel away from the Sleipnir. I prepared myself for emergency ejection, hoping I would be quick enough to at least keep this body I had been working so diligently on.

The Command ship exploded brilliantly around me. I warped away, under fire, my pod’s hull at half integrity. I requested emergency docking clearance at the nearest station, and as priority docking crews stood by with medical teams to assist me if needed, I landed my pod.

“Well, damn.”

What else was there to be said really.

—

Victim: Roc Wieler
Corp: Freeform Industries
Alliance: NONE
Faction: Minmatar Republic
Destroyed: Sleipnir
System: Amamake
Security: 0.4

Damage Taken: 9890

Involved parties:
Name: Themistocles (laid the final blow)
Security: -10.0
Corp: 181st Legion
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Rokh
Weapon: Neutron Blaster Cannon II
Damage Done: 3103

Name: JIm Hammer
Security: -10.0
Corp: Heretic Army
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Muninn
Weapon: Muninn
Damage Done: 2382

Name: Kri Matar
Security: -10.0
Corp: Failed Diplomacy
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Maelstrom
Weapon: Ogre I
Damage Done: 2198

Name: GaGGiChief
Security: -10.0
Corp: Heretic Army
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Harbinger
Weapon: Focused Medium Pulse Laser II
Damage Done: 1609

Name: stinkxfinger
Security: -10.0
Corp: Heretic Army
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Phobos
Weapon: Phobos
Damage Done: 598

Name: bigwong
Security: -10.0
Corp: Heretic Army
Alliance: Heretic Nation
Faction: NONE
Ship: Phobos
Weapon: Warp Disruption Field Generator I
Damage Done: 0

Destroyed items:
Anti-Kinetic Screen Reinforcer I, Qty: 2
Gyrostabilizer II
220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II, Qty: 2
Co-Processor II

Dropped items:
Gyrostabilizer II
Gistii B-Type 1MN Afterburner (Cargo)
Cap Booster 800, Qty: 8 (Cargo)
220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II, Qty: 5
Internal Force Field Array I
Power Diagnostic System II
Medium Electrochemical Capacitor Booster I
Medium Diminishing Power System Drain I
Gistii B-Type Small Shield Booster (Cargo)

Yes, something definitely had to be done about the increased pirate activity in New Eden. My resolve was strengthened whilst my wallet was lightened.

And in the back of my mind, I could see Sard Caid laughing.

UNDISCLOSED SYSTEM

“Seems like my kind of place.” I said as we entered the dark, seedy pub, aptly named The Gate. To my recollection, I still can’t determine whether it was simple coincidence that Gigaer and I came into contact that day, or whether it was other divine intervention playing its hand. Regardless, it was one of the first in a long series of critical decisions that would alter my path forever.

A young, plump waitress offered us a booth, which we casually accepted. The booth was near the front of the pub, yet cast in shadow, darkened even more than its dim surroundings.

We took our seats, listening to an older man and woman bellow out offkey Country Karaoke to each other, and ordered some beer. I introduced us both by our first names to the waitress, and got her name, a personal habit I had developed long ago. By knowing her name, it was much easier to yell for her later when we were dissatisfied with the service.

A smirk came to my face, and as the would be professional singer finished this particular croon, I let loose with a loud “Yeehaw!” which wasn’t even noticed amidst the sporatic, drunken patrons.

I never quite felt comfortable around Gigaer; he was a bit of an anomaly to me. There wasn’t much public record of him, and that which I had found was mostly third party opinion on his eccentricities. Talking with the man face to face seemed to be a completely different experience. So either he was very good at masking his true nature, or he was generally misperceived. My fleeting thought was to wonder if that was intentional, or whether his awkward mannerisms simply did the job for him autonomously. I liked having an advantage over people, whether it was physical intimidation, some piece of dirt on them, or simply the power of my presence; with Gigaer, I had no edge, and I found that unsettling.

“It is good to see you again, Roc Wieler.” Gigaer spoke loudly, though still mostly drowned out from the ambient noise of the pub. He was a soft spoken man, yet his voice had no difficulty carrying to me.

“Good to see you too.” I replied, though I had to admit it probably didn’t sound sincere. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Gigaer, it was just so bloody unexpected. The thought had entered my mind while I was working through some public domain documents, and it was Gigaer that initiated contact. 

He had been on my mind a lot lately, what with all the events I found myself swirling in, and it was just more than a little creepy that at the particular moment I needed him most, he had contacted me, after months of complete silence. We had exchanged casual small talk through the computer, but I quickly came to the point, and invited him for this meeting. 

We had chosen a secluded location, a place neither of us had been, in the hopes of affording us some privacy amongst strangers. So far, it seemed to be working.

“What troubles you my friend?” Gigaer asked, pulling me from myself. “You seem to be … brooding.” He continued, a smirk on his face.

I gathered my thoughts to speak when the plump waitress came by. Already, I couldn’t remember her name, and felt a momentary pang of guilt over it. If she had been attractive, I probably would’ve had no issue remembering her name at all. Another item to add the list for my pyschotherapist.

“You all ready to order?” she said, with unconcealed bubbliness. 

“Couple more minutes.” I said, throwing in a slightly too late “please” as she walked away to presumably go about the rest of her duties. 

Gigaer picked up the pitcher of beer and poured us both a glass. While he poured, he shared a bit of his own journey lately, parts of it filled with a sadness to rival my own. I made a toast to those we’ve loved and lost, and we downed our drinks in silence, both of us contemplative.

He then continued on about more pleasant things happening in his life, and I found myself hanging on his every word. If there was any one thing I would give the man credit for, it was his seemingly effortless ability to weave a compelling story. He spoke in metaphors at times, stitching these together with cold, hard facts, the cadence of his storytelling reaching feverish pitches and suspenseful lows. I was completely spellbound.

He stopped so we could order some food, and I chose the steak on flatbread sandwich. I asked about the steak; it was apparently made fresh from some of the local livestock planetside. Gigaer ordered The Gate Delight, which I found brave, as it really didn’t have too much of a description to it.

He continued to regale me with his tales until our food arrived.

The portions were generous; the quality was not. Still, bad food just begged for more beer.

It was over dinner that I finally managed to put together the words I had been wanting to say to Gigaer since our very first encounter.

“Why me?” I asked in earnest. I didn’t think there was any need to be more specific, as I knew he would have keen enough insight to know exactly what I was referring to.

Without missing a beat, he replied. “Why not you?” he said, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, only to be quickly masked with another bite of food.

I could think of many reasons, many rebuttals, many outright refusals as to “Why not me”, but as I mulled my arguments around in my head, I realized they all could be twisted and manipulated to actually support all the reasons “Why me”. It was infuriating and enlightening at the same time.

“There has to be someone else who could do this.” I said with exasperation.

“There are many, I have no doubt. Do not think yourself unique or special in this, Roc Wieler. What craftsman works with but one tool?” Gigaer replied flatly.

That wasn’t an answer I had expected. I guess I had been full of myself lately, wrapped in my arrogance, thinking that I was indeed gifted above most, and that entitled me to the degree of angst I felt. But Gigaer was right, once again. I was simply a drop of water in the crashing waves of the universe, a near infinitely anonymous speck in a greater whole. I was a tool, as he had so succintly put it.

I actually felt hurt and offended, even though in later retrospect, I would realize it was my own pride standing in the way.

“Alright, if that’s the case, I can just do nothing, and not have to worry about it, right? You’ve got other people you can use. You don’t need me at all.” There was a rising edge to my voice, a hint of primal warning to Gigaer to back down, to fold before me. It wasn’t conscious on my part, rather, a simply growing need to best this enigmatic man.

He put another morsel of food into his mouth, finishing it slowly before replying. “It has never been about my needs, Roc Wieler. The question before you is this, Can you ‘just do nothing’ and be satisfied with that?” He stabbed at another piece of his meal, sliding it into his mouth.

Damn him and his cryptic responses. He was worse than my analyst. At least she was easy on the eyes. That line of thinking brought me back to the plump waitress, and I felt another twitch of guilt, but also gave me an idea for a momentary diversion.

“Excuse me.” I said, leaving the booth, heading straight towards the waitress. 

“Hey.” I said to her, my most charming smile plastered across my face. I cocked my head to one side, indicating the singing coming from somewhere behind me. “You want to dance?” I asked her.

She put down what she had been working on and looked at me awkwardly, as I didn’t wait for her answer and took her hand in mine, my other arm wrapping around her waist to dance. 

She didn’t fluster. She didn’t look embarassed; at least not for herself. “I’m not allowed to dance at work.” She said, pulling herself away from me cautiously. It was then that it dawned on me that she was embarassed for me. The plump waitress felt sorry for me, probably thinking me just another stupid drunk in her bar. I found that hysterically comical!

She disengaged, and I walked back to the booth, completely mortified at the blatant rejection I had just received. Seemed it was an evening for a great many revelations to me.

“No, I couldn’t live with myself.” I said to Gigaer, completely bypassing the events that had just transpired. He let it go, thankfully.

“I don’t know how anyone could? How can you know there is a need, and that you could potentially fill that need, and still remain inactive? How can someone just sit back and gripe about the state of affairs, but not put forward or act on solutions to the very things they detest? Bitching and moaning about it does nothing but drag others down to suffer in your self-inflicted wallowing of despair. Do something. Stand up. Be heard. Make a difference.”

I cut myself short, feeling myself slipping into that same “Righteous Indignation” cadence I use when I am passionate about a topic. I had used it a lot as an officer in the Tribal Liberation Force. I had spoken with that same manner time after time while training new recruits for Freeform Industries.

I was a man of a great many passions, a man of a great many actions. I guess that is where my biggest confusion lay at the time.

“I don’t know how to get to where I want to be.” I said to Gigaer. I knew in my heart that I was destined for more, to bear a greater influence and responsibility towards our people, I just didn’t know how to get to that spot in my life, that place that I dearly longed for. All my passionate speeches came to mind, and I realized the reason there was often such hostility and anger behind my words was because each of those speeches was directed at myself.

I needed to stand up more. I needed to propose solutions. I needed to act. I needed to do more. It was the hypocrisy that was eating away at me. I wasn’t challenging myself. I wasn’t growing. I had been doing the same old, same old for over a year, wasting vital energy trying to encourage and convince others to take up the righteous banner of the cause, when I could’ve been simply waving the flag and leading by example.

I had lost my direction. This I already knew.

Gigaer was quietly eating as these thoughts raced around in my mind. He finished another bite of meat, then set his utensils down, locking my gaze to his.

I smirked, trying to cover my sudden awkwardness, and cracked a lame joke. “So help me, if you say the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, I’ll punch you.” I said.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. His eyebrows raised slightly, giving me that universal “You done?” look. The smirk faded from my face, and I steeled myself for whatever he was about to say, whatever great prophetic word would come forth from his mouth.

“How the hell should I know?” Gigaer said, turning back to his meal.

I was staggered, stunned, completely at a loss. I sat there repeatedly blinking, stupidly, wondering if I had him correctly.

“What?” I said, sounding as baffled and stupid out loud as I felt inside.

“Roc Wieler, your path is your own. It is not mine to dictate. You must make your own decisions, and live with the consquences of those choices. I do not know what is in store for you, and when my second sight gives me directions, it’s always vague, often confusing, and open to interpretation. I simply try to offer what advice I may, but I will not live anyone’s life for them or take responsibility for their soul. That is not my role. Excuse me, miss; I would like to pay for our fine meals please.”

I sat there mulling over his words, feeling increasingly diminished at the simple truth of it all. Stop making excuses, live your life, was the bottom line. 

Thankfully, we passed on dessert; I had eaten enough humble pie for one day.

As we said our goodbyes and parted ways, I was thankful. Strange as he may be, the man was a good listener. It dawned on me that he had even called me friend during the conversation. 

As I headed to the docking berth I rented, in which was nestled a brand new Sleipnir, I found myself looking forward to the next time we could enjoy each other’s company.

DAL STATION
PERSONAL QUARTERS
COLONEL ROC WIELER
3:32 AM

I can’t sleep. Part of me wants to, to go back to the dream of you I awoke from. Another part of me is afraid to dream again; to have my heart hope and long for you only to awaken and have you gone, my heart broken anew. 

There are tears in my eyes. I feel no shame in them. My chest feels tight and constricted, like my heart has swollen up well beyond its regular size, threatening to burst itself against my rib cage. It’s hard to breathe, and I find myself swallowing often. I feel like I am swimming through mud, with no sense of direction, no way to surface for air. I am lost. I am alone.

I can’t smile. I miss you too much. 

4:18AM

No point in even trying to sleep; it’s not going to happen, not on this day. I lay in my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling; no desire to get up and face the universe; no desire to continue hiding in the comfort and safety of my warm blankets. I have no desire to do anything but be with you.

I can’t believe you’ve been gone a full year already. Pain plucks at my heart strings even to mentally acknowledge it, new tears streaming down my face.

More than anything, I miss your company. I was always able to talk to you about anything and everything, good and bad, knowing you accepted and loved me completely; and there’s a lot going on in my life these days. I miss looking into your soft, brown eyes. I miss knowing there was always someone there that would love me unconditionally, that needed me as much as I still need you.

I love you.

4:48 AM

I place my palms against the wall of the steaming hot shower directly under the showerhead. I lean my weight against my braced arms, hanging my head. I can’t stop crying, and I don’t really care. My body feels sore and old, heavy; it is all I can do to keep standing, my knees weak, threatening to buckle.

For ten years you were my best friend; it was the best decade of my life. There are times I want to curse and scream that you were taken from me too soon, times I can’t see beyond the loss I feel poignantly with every thought of you. I want to blame someone. I often blame myself. I want to demand some type of cosmic justice, some explanation as to why you were taken so young, so healthy. It’s not right. It will never be right.

Still, I am thankful to have known you at all. You brought so much joy into my life, saved me from my own misery and depression; I honestly don’t think I’d still be here if it wasn’t for you, my friend. The downward spiral I was in threatened to destroy me and any close to me, but then there was you. There was always you. 

Wave after wave of memories flood my mind, I cling to each fleeting recollection, recalling every scent, every sound, every sight, every emotion you brought to life within me.

I remember when I tried to teach you to swim in the ocean, carrying you in my arms into the crashing waves, then dropping you into the cold water. I thought it was the best way at the time. You cried, thrashing against the water, struggling for the shore, and I felt so much guilt and foolishness. I picked you back up into the warmth of my embrace quickly, holding you against me, apologizing for scaring you. You never did like water after that.

I recall when I first brought you home; you had never seen stairs before. It took us months of working together, you and I, one step at time, until you finally were confident enough on your own to traverse them, though mastering going down the stairs was something you never quite achieved. 

Some of my best memories are of our walks in the park, or our long walks on frozen lakes in the winters, you really did love the cold season. You gave me a new appreciation for things I had never really paid attention to before. Thank you for that.

I remember sadly the times I disciplined you. Even though necessary, I still wonder if I went overboard sometimes, but in the end, you turned out to be very well mannered and personable, so I like to think I did right by you.

More tears. It hurts inside.

5:12 AM

I sit on my couch, holding your urn, my lips trembling, the corners of mouth pulling down into a grimace involuntarily. This is all I have left of you; this and my treasured memories. 

I hold you close to my chest, clutching at you desperately. I want to see you again. I pray that one day I will. I have to believe you’re in Heaven, or a better place somewhere, I simply have to. 

Clinging to that at least gives me the hope that we will be together again some day. To let go of that is to let go of you, to accept that you are forever gone from my life and that is something I am simply not willing to do, something I cannot do. Ever.

You had so much to offer to so many. There wasn’t a single person we ever met that didn’t love you. You were smart, you were beautiful, and people just found themselves attracted to your personality. You are irreplaceable.

I gently place your urn back in the glass cabinet, taking great care to not upset it in any way. 

I bought a ring right after you died, you know. I had your name, birthday and death day engraved on the inside of it. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t looked at that ring fondly and missed you in a heartfelt way. You are the first thought of my day, and my last thought at night.

I raise my fist to my mouth and kiss your ring.

6:22 AM

I head towards the office. I have zero motivation to work today. I want to crumble into myself, alone, brood over my loss. I know that’s not healthy; I know that’s not what you want for me, but it is how I feel. I am raw. I am vulnerable and completely exposed. I try to bottle up my pain sometimes, as we all do I suppose, but I don’t care right now what anyone else has gone through; this is my pain, and that’s all I have room for today. 

Don’t get me wrong. I remember you fondly. In fact, it’s the sheer immensity of the joy you brought to my life that makes me miss you so, but I can linger on the good times as well. You made me laugh like nobody else could. You were my best friend.

A lady passes by me on the station walkway, early as the hour is, and wishes me a good morning. “Morning.” I reply, there’s nothing good about it today.

I realize I’ve forgotten my NeoCom, something I never do. I grunt to myself at the irony of that. The device I use the most to keep integrated to everything outside of myself is forgotten as I dwell inside of myself thinking of you. How fitting. You always have affected me so.

7:14 AM

I don’t want to be here. There is always work waiting for me, always people rushing and demanding for things now, but you know what? None of it really matters. What if I did just walk out today? Would the universe really collapse? I hardly think so. People are spoiled. People are in too much of a rush all of the time. You reminded me of that daily. You taught me how to enjoy each moment, how to savour each experience fully. Thank you.

9:16 AM

I want to drown my sorrows at the bottom of a bottle. I could justify it by saying it’s a toast to you, a tribute to your memory, but I’d only be lying to us both. Besides, I don’t want to numb the pain, not to sound self-pitying or masochistic. They say “Time heals all”, but I say “Time makes you forget.” I don’t ever want to forget you. I don’t ever, for even a moment, want to fail to remember how it felt to hold your head in my arms, looking down at your beautiful face as you died. You couldn’t speak. You didn’t cry. You simply looked at me with thanks in your eyes, knowing it was the right decision. I’m thankful one of us did. It was the most painful decision I’ve ever had to make in my life, but you’re correct, it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer another moment. I’ve suffered every moment since.

I know without a doubt that while my life contains much happiness, I will never be complete, never be whole without you. How could I be? There was only one of you, and what you brought into my life cannot be duplicated, or improved upon. 

My life will be ok, it will just never be 100% of what it should be. Not without you.

10:19 AM

I want to do something special to commemorate this occasion, but I am at a loss for ideas. I want to get another tattoo, a symbolic etching for the word love, as you fulfilled that in my life more than any other. But do I get a new tattoo every year symbolizing some new aspect of my life you’ve added to? That will be a lot of tattoos.

Maybe I should get a simple “tick mark”, like criminals etch into the walls of their cells to count the days and years they are incarcerated. I would get that inked over my heart. Maybe I will do that.

Or maybe I will just continue to write these memoirs in your honour. I started them because of you. I didn’t know how to deal with the loss of you; I still don’t. 

I dedicated the last CD I produced to you. It didn’t sell well, but you still inspire me to this day. My eyes are red from all the tears this morning. I don’t wipe them away.

I’m just rambling now, my emotions scattered and illogical. I feel pulled in so many different directions internally. I could just shut it all off, put back on my personna, be the Colonel, but that isn’t fair to either of us.

You deserve so much more than I can give. My words are not enough to do justice to your memory. What could be?

I wish everyone had met you. I wish everyone could have known you like I did. All our lives would be better for it, that much is for certain.

I wish you were still here. I wish that more than I wish anything else in this life.

I hope you are at peace now. I hope you still know how I love you so. You mean so much to me, so much you’ll never know; and I’d like to take this time to say “I love you.”

I will always remember and cherish you, Taniqua.