On the day we move into the Special Talent Quarters at Rockefeller Military Research Center, Laurie asks me to keep a journal. She fears I am losing touch with humanity, losing interest in her. She is right, and so I comply to her wishes. It is constraining to write of my experience in a linear fashion, but for Laurie's sake I will offer a glimpse
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Comments 21
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There is no need to feel shame, Laurie. I am writing for you.
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It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, please don't think that. It's a beautiful sentiment. It's just...oh, I don't know really. Why am I even complaining at all? Just to hear my own voice? Gah.
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I don't see this journal as sentiment. I am doing as you asked. Does my continued care for you make you uncomfortable?
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Tell me... Why is it so impossible to continue on here? No one can lay a hand on you. Is it truly necessary to keep away from the life you've so recently found a new passion for?
Where is it that you've disappeared to?
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What could compel me to remain, now that there is nothing that ties me to Earth?
I will make my home among the stars, and you will not find me.
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The sacrifice of your friendship was not one I made rashly. The only thing which keeps me from entirely regretting it, aside from the lives we've saved, is the fact that you do understand.
I never once hoped you'd forgive me for it.
You could make your home as close or far as you like. You know as well as I that I would never find you if you didn't wish me to.
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I return to Earth eventually, because you ask me to. Search for me, if you wish.
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I have no sexual feelings towards watches, but I appreciate the sentiment.
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