Some people welcomed change. I didn’t.
Change often meant not being in control, not having influence. Change meant growth, trust, letting go. Change was never easy, but as I’d often said “If it was easy, I wouldn’t be here.”
I sat in the Ripsack, my old faithful Rifter class frigate. It had taken awile to gain access to my accounts, to verify my identity, to clean the cobwebs from the storage hangar. Lighting was still minimal – my staff long since gone. I couldn’t even remember the security protocols I had put in place for the first few tries, resulting in my now swollen fist from smashing it stupidly against the hull in a foolish outburst of frustration and regret.
Sometimes I wished I could just go back. Back to when things were good. Back to when things made sense. Back to when there were no unknowns, to when my mind wasn’t working against me, creating thousands of dark scenarios every second to test my resolve, my convictions. Back to when she was in my life. I didn’t even know whatever happened to Mynxee.
But you couldn’t go back. Besides, going forward often taught us things we wouldn’t have learned otherwise; about ourselves, about others, about “friends”, about life in general. The problem was that it was painful to let go, to move forward, knowing that most weren’t even aware of my own self-inflicted turmoil. For someone who was used to being in control, having no influence at all was maddening and terrifying. It meant trusting others to value you as you valued them, and for someone as passionate as I, that was seldom the case.
That’s when you choose to just stop caring.
Aura, slowly bring up all systems, I thought out loud, once I had gotten familiar to the feel of my capsule. It was immediately a welcome embrace from the past, but also a reminder that nothing ever stayed the same. I could feel my consciousness start to expand, and though it wasn’t as intense as my first time, it was new once again and unfamiliar. It took me a while to gather my bearings.
My mind flooded with updates – to the universe, to the changes in tech, to everything. I had been away far longer than I thought I had. Long enough to be forgotten. Long enough for others to be content without ever having known I had ever been part of their lives to begin with.
Through it all I had learned one thing. I could control only myself; my action, my reactions, my emotions and desires. I had learned restraint.
I wasn’t sure the universe would survive a Roc Wieler with nothing else left to lose.