(I can't believe I'm actually willing to admit this.)
OOC: Reposted from theatrical_muse from 7/7/2004, 16 of 50.
What do you most regret losing?
There are many things I've lost, throughout my lengthy existence, and usually, the loss has come with a commensurate gain. For instance, recently I lost a good bit of my free time and became chained down to responsibilities I never used to have to deal with. On the other hand, I gained power and status within my society, and I have a son, who is both simultaneously the most annoying creature in my existence and the best thing that ever happened to me. I lost my innocence and sense of wonder at the universe so long ago I'd practically forgotten I ever had it until I saw it again in my son, but I gained knowledge and power and an understanding of the universe.
I lost friends during the war. Some of them, I killed myself. Others died for the beliefs they shared with me. That's extraordinarily painful-- these are people I've known for billions of years, people I never expected to see die-- but they died for a reason, and I believe the cause was justified. My civilization has a chance to escape stagnation now. I can't regret that.
No, the only thing I've lost and never gained anything by...
...is my ex.
Okay, I said it.
The Q don't have any concept of monogamy (see my comments re commitment) -- we never had a "marriage" as most mortals would understand the term. But we were always there for one another. When things fell apart, when either of us suffered setbacks or losses or just got overwhelmed by chaos, boredom or both, the other one was always there to fall back to. She was my best friend.
I probably should have guessed our relationship was failing when I got kicked out of the Continuum and she didn't so much as drop in to say "hi", or even speak on my behalf. But when the war started up, we came back together again, and I forgave her for abandoning me in my hour of need.
This time, though. The last time she walked out, she told me I was ruining our son, and she was disowning us both, and she wished she'd never had him, he was too much work for too little return and she was sure that if she didn't dump us first, I'd dump her and him and walk because I'd never be able to handle the responsibility.
There are no secrets in the Continuum. My son heard everything she said-- for that matter, a lot of what she didn't say as well-- and, well, I'm an adult Q. If I was going to get hurt because people said mean things to me, I'd be a giant eternal bleeding heart, now wouldn't I? I can take it. But he's young, and he doesn't have the kind of defenses any adult Q does, and she hurt him. Badly.
I still miss her. There's no other Q I've ever been as close to. But I can't forgive what she did to our son. I would *not* have walked out if she hadn't done it first-- I may not be good at this responsibility thing, but I'm trying. Unlike her. And she had no call to say that I'd ruined him when he isn't even full-grown and when she had as much opportunity as I did to shape him. It's hardly my fault she didn't want to be as involved as I was in raising him.
Perhaps I gained by getting her out of both our lives, if she was going to be like that about it. But it doesn't feel that way. I feel as if I've lost something I never will, in fact, get back, and I didn't get any benefit from it. All it did was hurt the one person I most want to protect from harm. And now I have a hard time remembering my more pleasant memories of my times with her because remembering what she turned out to really be has poisoned them.
What do you most regret losing?
There are many things I've lost, throughout my lengthy existence, and usually, the loss has come with a commensurate gain. For instance, recently I lost a good bit of my free time and became chained down to responsibilities I never used to have to deal with. On the other hand, I gained power and status within my society, and I have a son, who is both simultaneously the most annoying creature in my existence and the best thing that ever happened to me. I lost my innocence and sense of wonder at the universe so long ago I'd practically forgotten I ever had it until I saw it again in my son, but I gained knowledge and power and an understanding of the universe.
I lost friends during the war. Some of them, I killed myself. Others died for the beliefs they shared with me. That's extraordinarily painful-- these are people I've known for billions of years, people I never expected to see die-- but they died for a reason, and I believe the cause was justified. My civilization has a chance to escape stagnation now. I can't regret that.
No, the only thing I've lost and never gained anything by...
...is my ex.
Okay, I said it.
The Q don't have any concept of monogamy (see my comments re commitment) -- we never had a "marriage" as most mortals would understand the term. But we were always there for one another. When things fell apart, when either of us suffered setbacks or losses or just got overwhelmed by chaos, boredom or both, the other one was always there to fall back to. She was my best friend.
I probably should have guessed our relationship was failing when I got kicked out of the Continuum and she didn't so much as drop in to say "hi", or even speak on my behalf. But when the war started up, we came back together again, and I forgave her for abandoning me in my hour of need.
This time, though. The last time she walked out, she told me I was ruining our son, and she was disowning us both, and she wished she'd never had him, he was too much work for too little return and she was sure that if she didn't dump us first, I'd dump her and him and walk because I'd never be able to handle the responsibility.
There are no secrets in the Continuum. My son heard everything she said-- for that matter, a lot of what she didn't say as well-- and, well, I'm an adult Q. If I was going to get hurt because people said mean things to me, I'd be a giant eternal bleeding heart, now wouldn't I? I can take it. But he's young, and he doesn't have the kind of defenses any adult Q does, and she hurt him. Badly.
I still miss her. There's no other Q I've ever been as close to. But I can't forgive what she did to our son. I would *not* have walked out if she hadn't done it first-- I may not be good at this responsibility thing, but I'm trying. Unlike her. And she had no call to say that I'd ruined him when he isn't even full-grown and when she had as much opportunity as I did to shape him. It's hardly my fault she didn't want to be as involved as I was in raising him.
Perhaps I gained by getting her out of both our lives, if she was going to be like that about it. But it doesn't feel that way. I feel as if I've lost something I never will, in fact, get back, and I didn't get any benefit from it. All it did was hurt the one person I most want to protect from harm. And now I have a hard time remembering my more pleasant memories of my times with her because remembering what she turned out to really be has poisoned them.