My Other Side, Part I


p_co07@yahoo.com

My Other Side

 

 

I sit here at my desk and I think of him…. Night and day I think of him. His memory is never far from me, constantly tapping on the side of my head. His name rings like a small bell over and over in my mind.

 

Yet, I ignore it and continue on, as I shuffle and sort through the padds on my desk.

 

No one knows what goes on inside of my head or inside of my heart. Except perhaps my mother, I could never hide anything from her. I smile at the thought.

I exit my office and command the lights to dim as another day of work comes to an end.

When I walk down the corridors of the ship; my mind begins to respond to the surroundings that reminds me of silly little things…. He walked these same corridors. He leaned on that wall just right over there. He pushed this exact button on the turbo-lift.

 

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll never be able to escape the sweetness of his memory.

Nor will I ever be able to escape the heartache of his sudden departure.

Yet I ignore it and continue on.

Today of all days, his memory hangs like a cloud over me. Today is the second anniversary of his death. I step off of the turbo-lift and walk towards ten-forward; I know that there will be no one waiting to have dinner with me. No one will be standing there at our table with the true discipline of a gentleman ready to sit me in my chair.

There will be no smile; no happiness or love in those blue eyes as he recognizes me from across the room.

And there will be no music from that instrument he used to call ‘the bone.’ My memory flashes at the thought of how he loved that old metal instrument and I smile…oh my gods…. At his many awkward attempts at playing ‘Night bird’ and how I used to mischievously request it…. Just a little on purpose.

He never made it through that song…. Not without being disinclined at his own clumsiness as he attempted to reach what he referred to as the ‘Pike’s peak of all notes."

Yet I ignore it and continue to walk down the corridor.

"Counselor?" I turn around in response to the voice and quickly walking towards me is my old friend Geordi.

"Yes, Geordi." I greet him politely, only wishing it was some one else. His memory is still there…. It doesn’t leave. I smile giving the pretense that nothing is wrong.

"I was wondering if you would like to join the Captain, Commander Owens, Beverly, Data and myself tonight for a round of poker?"

I don’t answer right away; my brain flashes the name…Commander Owens…. He being the man who became his replacement.

I inhale deeply and exhale slowly before I answer, "No, not tonight thank you. I was going to go get a bite to eat and then retire early. I have a full schedule ahead of me tomorrow." I don’t lie to him; the truth is I do try to stay busier these days.

"Are you sure? You’re more than welcome."

"I’m sure. Thank everyone for me. Will you do that please?"

"Sure thing, Counselor. Hey, are you all right?"

"I’m fine. Just a little exhausted, that’s all." I smile a heartwarming smile and am silently relieved that the chief engineer has decided not to ask anymore questions.

"Maybe some other time?"

"Perhaps." I smile and turn to walk away.

His memory still haunts me, yet I attempt to ignore it and continue on.

The double doors to ten-forward swish open and I enter. I smile and nod at the many patrons, comrades and especially to those that were at one time were patients of mine. I realize that as I deal with their heartaches and losses, I am also dealing with my own…. And to those few whom I have counseled I will be forever grateful.

I order the usual and slowly begin to eat as if my body responds by a function called autopilot. Food has lost its flavor and its appeal although I know that I need it to survive and it simply digests.

Digest and dissect.

I dissect the substance on my plate with my eating utensil as if it were some sort of frog in a biology class.

I smile at my memories as I imagine his concerned voice from across the table and his intense glance upon my half-finished plate of food. "Deanna you’re not eating." He would say, and I smile slightly at the thought and the memory of the sound of his voice.

"I’m really not hungry." I would always respond quietly. Inwardly thankful that he cared enough to notice my consumption.

I suddenly shake my head at my own silliness, as if that could toss away his memory.

I attempt to ignore it and continue on, as I stand to my feet and excuse myself out of ten-forward.

I climb into bed and concentrate of the day’s events and tomorrow’s schedules.

His memory is ever present.

My mind drifts off into a quiet chamber and my heart smiles at his memory as I stare at the empty side of the bed. The side of the bed where he used to lay which is now vacant and will forever be vacant. I gently bush my hand across his pillow.

He once stated that he would never leave me, and he has held true to his word.

I close my eyes and attempt to drift off to sleep. I know that tomorrow I will awaken and his memory will be the first thing that greets me.

I tell my self that our relationship was a long time ago and I really shouldn’t dwell on it. After all I am a Counselor.

I convince myself that what we had was in the past, and now in the present our relationship has now become memories that are dear to my heart.

They are now precious sacred memories that will forever be at the forefront of my mind and carved as if into stone across my heart.

I’m not sad anymore, although I’d have to admit to my self that I miss him so much at times it actually hurts and I wish so badly that he would come back.

Then reality cuts like a cold steel blade of truth and I realize he isn’t coming back.

Those closest to me say I’m strong…. But they will never know how his memory is ever present. How it is never far from me.

People often tell me I’m handling it well, and that they are simply amazed at my strength and my courage.

I smile and respond with polite thank yous.

I laugh at their jokes, rejoice with their births, and congratulate them on their triumphs. I weep beside them as they experience their own unexpected sorrows of daily living.

Never letting down my guard and revealing my other side.

But his memory is still there. I attempt to ignore it and continue on.

That is what he told me to do…I remember his words clearly as he took his last breath…he looked up at me with pleading blue eyes.

"Please Deanna…Continue on."

I do.