A Better Friend

Posted on Sun Jun 2nd, 2024 @ 10:29pm by Ensign Anne Marie "Ree" Beckett

"Hi dads," Ree began as she normally did every one of her personal logs. It felt odd to think of a log as a message to herself, so she spoke to her fathers, which was the most natural thing in the world. She'd always been able to talk to them about anything, even if they only nodded and feigned understanding to the odd things that she'd brought to the dinner table discussions. Even if they'd never hear the messages, it made it easier for her to pretend to talk to someone else. "I think I've been a terrible friend lately. I've completely buried myself in one project after another and barely come up for air. And when I did, I'd bury myself in the gym because that, at least, fits the normal status quo. Laps here or laps on a track are still laps. A hundred crunches burns the abs no matter where you are. It's something to fall back on when I need something to focus on- and I did- but I shouldn't have."

"I let the food preservation project branch out to pickling and drying and a hundred other things that your great grandmothers probably did. I made some truly heinous alkalines that were sent to sickbay to use as a sanitizer. Figured out how to do cordials. Dried a fig looking fruit to the consistency of shoe leather before finding that it freeze dried better. Then that became how to store it. Researching temperatures and desiccants and types of materials for containers. Then acquiring room and the room parameters... I completely got carried away, and that led to the exercise, which led to the dislocated shoulder which is why I ended up on light duty for two weeks."

"In other words, I've been doing a spectacular job of dodging people and staying in my own head, which is bad. I know that. If you were here I know the exact look that you'd be giving me. You'd stab up a carrot, look me in the eyes and say '*travaille mieux, sois mieux*' and take a big bite. I wish you were here. I'd listen to a hundred of your stories and stay still: I pinky swear. Instead I'm staring at the bunk over mine and talking to myself like one day you might hear this."

"It's silly, you know. I spent so much time trying to get out of Brochet. Get to the civilized world and surround myself with other people who thought like I did. I over shot it, dads. I way overshot it. And now I'm surrounded by people more like me, and I think I just exasperate a lot of them. I still can't talk to people without either coming off as a manic Easter Bunny or a fly on the wall that just nods politely and hides behind their glass. I'd like to blame you two for that for raising me in the middle of nowhere, but I can't. I had all of college to learn social skills, I just didn't for whatever reason."

"So, in closing my goal this month is to be a better friend. Talk more, hide less. Make more eye contact that isn't odd. Smile with the whole face. Don't do the tongue thing when I'm thinking. And don't overdo it at the gym. Especially at the gym," she sighed. "Love you more than all of the stars. Until next time..."