Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
These latest weeks, months, whatever, have been most definitely the worst. Worse than stranding us here in the first place. When will I learn to just back the hell off. You would think I might learn, but no, I see a Krenim bully, and instead of just going the hell around their space, I insist that we are going to damn well punch our way through it.
Even Chakotay didn't raise a fuss, and he is usually irritatingly good at damn well pissing me off with his lack of ... hmm, I guess I don't really want to finish this sentence.
So here I am, in the dark, fixing some piece of my damn ship that is broken, and I feel that I am broken with her and he waltzes up to me. I am hoping that he will cheer me slightly, usually he has some gentle anecdote to soothe me, but no. Not this time, dammit. No, instead, he reminds me that it is my birthday. Damn him to hell. Of all the things I was hoping to pass by unnoticed, my fortieth birthday was definitely high on the list. I don't know what the hell he wants, a medal? He is just lucky I didn't damn well bust him down to ensign. Forty. My hopes and dreams of marriage, kids, all damned well swallowed up in one enormous quadrant. Permanent, unmitigated captain duty, watching my life just damn well roll on by.
Then, as if he can damn well see the ratchet, he turns it one more time. It is a chronometer. Yes, Yes, it has a touching story to it to show his faith, but it mocks me. A damn silver timepiece that actually audibly ticks. 'no kids, no life, no ship, just hell' well that is what I think the damn thing is telling me. I can't bear to look at it mocking me. Time, something that is flowing inexorably away.
Then, when i told him to recycle the damn thing, I didn't even need to look up to see the damn hurt in his eyes. I am a cold hearted woman today, I just want to be left the hell alone to get through this in my own damn way. Instead I punished him, lashed out my hurt at him. All unfair. Just because it would be so easy, so damned easy to say to hell with trying. To hell with the hard options to get us all home. It would be so easy to just let him truly soothe my hurts, accept that gift that he offers every damned day. To truly make a life here, accept the love that I truly crave, share the dreams. Instead, I hurt him, force him to take a step back, take pitiable pride that someone else can feel a part of my pain. And now, I am still mending the plasma relays, alone, but now the anger has become sorrow, and that is much harder to bear.
Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
