Epistolary Contest, Gay Writers & Friends
First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 44007.1
I suspect, since I have been refusing to "check in" with Counselor Troi, you might – with great hesitation – glance through my log. I guess "refusing" isn't particularly accurate; I'm avoiding her requests, avoiding Ten Forward, avoiding her. You could ask for an explanation and I would be bound to give it. After all, you're not "avoiding" Counselor Troi, even though you detest "therapy" as much as I do. I would guess that you haven't required an explanation of me yet because it would be embarrassing for both of us. As I told Locutus, I have never lied to you, and if you asked me to give you a reason, I would have to. Lie. To your face. I don't know that I could do it. So where would that leave us? You'd ask, politely, with that timbre of concern in your voice, and I'd hesitate, and deflect, and then I'd just stand there, mute, like an idiot. I'd see that flash of irritation which you try so hard to shut down. "Well, Number One?" You'd take on that neutral tone of voice then. The one that says if I'm not careful I'll find myself in my quarters, or in the brig, or knocked halfway across your Ready Room. And I'd ask to be dismissed. You'd dismiss me, I know you well enough to know this. But you'd make a note of my intransigence in your log, and I'd find myself in Sickbay, being poked and prodded by Dr Crusher and Counselor Troi.
So, if you're reading this, I'll save us both the trouble. No, I'm not sleeping. I can't remember when I last slept for more than a few minutes at a time. Yes, I am having nightmares. I try not to remember them. If I write them here, I might give them power. And I'm waking up, suddenly and terrifyingly paralyzed, unable to breathe, unable to see, unable to speak. That used to happen when I was a child. I've forgotten what the doctors called it, then. Yes, I blame myself. How could I not? If I'd taken the Melbourne, I would have been the only captain at Wolf 359 with experience in engaging the Borg. I could have done something. I should have saved you. I should have saved them. I look in the mirror and I see the face of a coward.
First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 44008.4
At least you didn't send me to Sickbay.
First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 44008.9
I am not a coward. I am not a coward. I am not a coward. Three times is the charm, right? Wearing my ruby slippers.
First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 44009.3
I wonder if you'll glance here just to make sure I did as I was told. Obedience not being something I'm comfortable with. I suppose Deanna reported back to you on my "progress" or lack thereof. She sent me to Sickbay. I expected your Aunt Adèle's hot toddy again, but instead I got a full neurological workup and a diagnosis, complete with medication. I remembered what they are called: night terrors.
I'm still a coward.
First Officer's Personal Log, Stardate 44010.6
I'm supposed to tell you. How am I supposed to do that? Honestly, I'd prefer to
First Officer's Personal Log, Supplemental Entry, Stardate 44010.8
You are not a coward. And I already know.
