Contractions

The strangest thing happened to me the other night. I was over at Firefly’s, to make sure that x0x0 was still on planet, and I got cornered by a few of the locals – mostly Imrhien and Amyla, two people who have befriended x0x0 and I. Imrhien has a wonderfully direct streak to her, and asked me if I loved x0x0. I was shocked, and naturally, didn’t give a straight answer. Finessing Imrhien’s direct questions, I slipped away into the night.

Two things strike me as I lay awake staring up at the ceiling. First, as I think of these folks, I think of “Amy” and “Imr”… I’m contracting their names. Now, that doesn’t sound much, but usually when I think of people I’m more concerned with whether they are a red dot or a blue dot on my data pad. The idea of contracting names is alien to me, and the fact that I consider it at all tells me I’ve been in one place too long. Maybe it’s time to move on, but that’s really not up to me.

But all of this pales in comparison to the question of my feelings. Feelings. Even the word feels strange in my mouth, as I roll it around like some strange fruit, tasting its peculiar mix of sweet and tart. Do I love x0x0? Even the question feels like a non sequitur… it’s like I’ve been staring at a set of random dots for days, and everyone around me sees them as 3-dimensional vase. It’s not an idea that’s been in my universe. I’m confused.

And to add to this, she’s still threatening to head out on a “job” with some ben tiansheng de yidui rou. I could curse all night, and still not get out how angry I feel.

And there I stop. Feel. For years, I’ve tried not to feel a thing. And now it seems to be all I care about.