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Death Will Always Survive
I cannot go on. I believe I have seen everything I ever wanted to see and experienced even more than I wanted to experience. Now I feel it is time to go. No longer will I stay here on earth and wait for the inevitable. There no longer is a reason for me to stay, as the one thing I loved most of all has been gone for more than a week already.
People tried to "cheer me up" as they call it. Only the Doctor seemed to understand what I was feeling then. Now I do not feel anymore. Now there only is the emptiness inside of me, where bright light used to be for over two years.
I adapted really quick after we got together. I learned how to share, how to read the humans moods and even how to understand them. She taught me everything she knew and more. I learned how it feels to share the same feelings, to be happy to no end and to be talk to my love without even moving my lips. It was like heaven on earth.
I still cannot believe it is over. I KNOW it to be over, but my heart will not let me believe it to actually be true. I have seen how they buried her in the earth, I put yellow roses on her grave, the only flowers she really loved. Our house is filled with yellow roses, now they are faded, just like I know her to be down there.
I simply cannot understand why it had to be her. If only I had had the power to save her. But I was too weak, and still, I was the one who survived. I wish it had been me to lie beneath that boulder. How could she leave me here with nothing to hold onto? If she only had survived
Her body was so strong, refusing to give up even when she already knew she would die and told me to never forget her. The body I had loved for two years, four months, 12 days and 45 seconds laid beneath a boulder the size of a small shuttle, only her upper body free to move. I cannot forget that image, as my eidetic memory prevents me from forgetting anything.
She smiled. I could not understand why she was smiling, but she just looked at me and smiled, her dark brown eyes softening as they looked into mine. I crawled to her, hugging what I could grasp and tried to pull her out of there, although I knew it would be futile. That word again. Yes, she told me many times when I "fell back into Borg speech" how adorable she thought it was.
But I never quite understood why she loved that emotionless part of me, until she told me that I am not emotionless. She showed me on many occasions that I only used that kind of language when I was not sure of myself, or sad or angry, how I used it to hide my feelings. And therefore would never be emotionless.
I tried to free her so badly that I broke my arm when I tried to lift the boulder, I did not even hear her calling out to me before she took my hand into hers and held onto me fiercely. Then I realized that nothing would ever be the same again after that day. She laid her head on my thighs, still looking into my eyes and waiting for me to say anything.
"I love you, bangwI." I could not think of anything else but my love for her. She smiled at my silliness, easily forgetting about it, even when her body started to rely more on her redundant organs. Her face became paler with every second, the blood she lost slowly draining the life out of her.
"I love you too, benalwI." How I loved to hear her say these words. Even whispered they are the most beautiful words I have ever heard in my whole life. I softly stroked her dark hair, cupping her cheek and then I kissed her gently. Oh how I loved to kiss her, to cover every millimetre of her caramel skin with my lips, to show her just how much she meant to me.
I loved the feeling of her skin against mine, the contrast of color and just the slightest difference in softness. I loved to stroke her hair when she told me about the children she wanted with me, I loved to hold her near when she was sad, I loved to prepare the bath for her when she had a rough day, I loved to bring breakfast to bed when she was sick and I loved to make love to her every time she had this loving glow in her eyes.
I loved everything about her. How she liked to get up early on a work day, how she liked to sleep until noon at Sundays, how she liked her raktajino late in the evening, before we went to bed, how she threw back her hair when she was working on a console, how she kissed me senseless right in front of all her friends when she had not seen me for a few hours, how she
I cannot go on. I am damaging myself. I have to stop.
Life cannot go on like this. I cannot even call it life. This cannot be.
I will stop the pain.
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