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Mreh K'hal

The Un-Seen Letter

((OOC Note: This log is a result of the appointment between Mreh and Demitri that would've taken place before last sim))

 

"Write it down and look over the result," Mreh said to himself in his quarters. "Sure, that's easy. Excuse me while the sarcasm drips onto the desk," he muttered. Settling in, he activated the desktop console on the desk, sighed, and began dictating it.

 

Dear M'Vess,

 

I should have told you how much I really care for you before you left but I didn't. It was too hard to think about it, to say it, and then to know you'd be off to Bob knows where. It felt like it would be better to hide it, to keep it inside. It wasn't, and I had to see the shrink as a result.

 

We could have had something, I think, you and I. I certainly know from the first time I saw you padding through the corridors as a security officer there was chemistry. I'm a doctor, so I do know what that means literally as a result of neural action, chemical processes and the like. I'm not some rutting tom either so it means very little in the overall scheme. The rest of it, the comfort I felt around you, the desire to know you, the easy words and even the hard ones, meant so much more.

 

You became the XO, and everything was squashed. You're too much a Rules & Regulations person to fraternize with a subordinate, so it got put aside. I don't blame you for it, because it's who you are. The chemistry was still there, definitely on my end. I think from yours as well. There was an emotional connection there too, and it was friendship and the camaraderie that comes with serving together aboard a starship. I'll never forget that, nor regret it. But still I wished it could be more but could never say it.

 

When you were injured by the Boganary I was so damn worried, and scared. The thought that I could lose you had never entered my mind before, but it did then, and it floored me. It was only knowing how skilled our medical staff was that kept me from being a puddle of useless fur during that time. You survived though, and again the thought that I must tell you how I felt and what I wished for before anything else could happen entered my mind, but again I did not say anything. I could not risk your recovery, nor did I wish to endanger our friendship.

 

Time continued to go by and things did not change. Until you stood in shock from receiving your orders and you told me you must go. It was only shock that kept me from yowling and causing a scene then, that and knowing doing so would only injure you more. Then nearly a week passed before I finally went to see you, when I was momentarily blinded by the desire to throw myself at your feet, something that my pride and your sensibilities would never forgive. So I eventually saw you, gave you the trinket and said only a little of what was on my mind because I could not bear the thought of laying my heart at your feet when the necessity of the moment meant you could only step over it and walk away.

 

Then the farewell party would've been bad enough, but to be the one tagged to organize it nearly killed me. And seeing you there, hearing your speech, it was only the fact that alcoholic beverages taste awful to me that kept me from falling into the trap of wounded souls. So I watched you go.

 

I hoped that after you were gone I could put it aside as I always had, yet I could not bear to work. The empty chair where you sat and the ground which you paced on the bridge called at me, shouting that you should be there, but of course you could not be. I started leaving the bridge to work elsewhere, anywhere where I would not think to see you so that I was not constantly reminded of your absence.

 

Finally enough light shone through my hazed mind that I had gone too far, and that my duties were being affected by you not being here. I made an appointment with Mr. Mashchenko. We talked, he told me to write this out to help understand and accept my loss, for grief is what it is. For losing what could have been, for losing what had been.

 

I miss you M'Vess. But part of being in Starfleet is going where the wind blows, and it blew you away. I can't continue to dwell on that, or to dwell on you, on an us that might have been. Whatever happens in our futures I hope we see each other again, I hope that one day we can continue where we left off at the very least. I still hope for more. But until that time comes I must put you away, safe and sound in the stasis chamber of my memories, and let them be a warmth to my soul instead of a weight dragging it down into the abyss.

 

Goodbye for now, Lefty.

 

Finishing the letter, drained and miserable, Mreh slumped over to his bed, curled up, and slipped into a heavy sleep.

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