Disclaimer: Paramount? What’s a paramount?
When…
Interesting word—when.
So many meanings. Different ideals, different times. When…
When am I old enough? When are we going to get there? When is later?
I have to look at myself and try to answer those questions. When, when, when, when? Yet I can’t find it in myself to answer.
"When, Kathryn?"
Later, I would always say. He would search my face and turn around and leave. I would watch him and know that again, I had added to the crack in his heart. The slump in his shoulders, the down turn of his head. Then he would turn and look at me over his shoulder, that silly grin on his face. Then…
But ‘then’ doesn’t have the same meaning as ‘when’.
"When does it become too much? When does it become a matter of right or wrong?"
He asked that of me one night. Though he never came right out and said it, I knew it was a double meaning. One referring to the mission, the other about us. I had only sighed and told you the same thing as I had a thousand times before.
Had—another word. I had it within my power. Him within my power. Tied around my finger.
"When will you admit it, that you’re human and you have feelings and desires?"
I had crossed my arms and stared out the window. I had crossed the line and been with another. He hurt and I knew I had done something wrong. If anything, when my desires got the best of me, it should have been him. But I had let heart foolishly lead and it caused a rift that couldn’t be easily mended. It was the moment I looked into his eyes and saw that the crack had finally twisted all the way down his heart.
When…
Then…
Something then happened. I saw no fire in his eyes. I never heard that soft chuckle of his. He never argued with me, even when we both knew I was wrong.
When I was wrong.
The man I had grown to admire, respect, call upon, share secrets with…was no longer there. In his stead, I found a shell that went through the motions, but wasn’t really there. Then, when came again.
"When you return, we need to have a talk, Chakotay. Take care of yourself."
When. We. Talk.
When. . .
. . .is like the right kind of light in the autumn, where the pale yellow leaves that never really turn the vibrant shades…looks like white puffs of cotton against a gray sky.
When. . .
. . .is like walking along the beach and finding an agate. . .an unexpected treasure that the sea gives.
When. . .
. . .is like a February morning where the ground is hardened by frost, the sky is at its most brilliant blue and the sun shines and you stand in it to get warm.
When. . .
. . .is finding that first perfect bud of a rose, dew touching it in a delicate kiss.
When. . .
. . .is the word I said as I laid my hand upon your coffin and I realized with finality that it was just another word for. . .
Never. Eternity. Forever. Goodbye.
When is when I told you I loved you and it was too late. . .when the sun no longer shone, when the birds no longer sang and when I realized I didn’t hear the ocean and your laughter in my dreams anymore.
When. . .
End