Valgal,
you're welcome. I'm sure I speak for many here if I say I wish your life will be full of contentment and happiness.
Losing a permister with whom one once shared so much, and had so much in common, is a difficult feeling. I think many here (me included) have gone through similar moments.
All in all, life is more intricate (and thus more interesting) than any single thing that happens to us in it. If you'll allow me to enter the Star Trek universe, sometimes it's better to face life as Mr Spock, and sometimes as Cap. Kirk; sometimes we should be Cmdr. Riker, sometimes Cap. Picard; sometimes we're B'Elanna Torres, sometimes we're Tom Paris, sometimes even Cap. Janeway; sometimes we're ridiculous like Quark, sometimes we're tragic like Odo, sometimes we're torn between allegiances like Major Kyra. Sometimes we transcend, like Cap. Sisko, and sometimes we fall lower than we ever thought possible, like O'Brian in primister.
Sometimes we're Oryan slave girls, capturing the desires of others with our bodies; sometimes we're Vidiians dying painfully from the phage, turning into physically (and morally) repulsive monsters as we die. Sometime's we're Q, jokingly jumping from place to place, omnipotent, omniscient (and yet strangely bored with the Q-continuum...). Sometimes we're Trills with a symbiont in our bellies and memories from seven previous lives. Sometimes we're a Klingon with a strong sense of military honor, and then we turn into a bragging one who just wants more redwine and another bowl of gagh. Sometimes we're Sarek, full of wisdom and diplomacy, or T'Pol, with repressed anarchic *******er instincts. Sometimes we're on Risa, flirtatiously walking around with our horgh'ahns, ready for kinky
jamaharon sex. And sometimes we're in the Vulcan monastery of P'Jem, participating in ancient ascetic rituals, detached, full of deep and cosmic thoughts and feelings... (but beware! P'Jem is not as it looks...)
Sometimes we feel powerful and strong, like Worf marrying Jadzia Dax ('and they *******ed the gods who had created them, and stood tall, independent and free...'), sometimes powerless and weak, like Dr. Bashir trying to cure the Blight, and failing precisely because of the advanced technology he was so proud of... Sometimes we live and thrive, we show the best in ourselves, because of an ideal that attracts us, like the Voyager crew trying to return to the Alpha quadrant; sometimes we delude ourselves and eventually self-destruct despite that, like the Silver Blood copies of the Voyager crew, trying to merely go on existing but ultimately dying without even being noticed, empty and unremembered...
And so many other things, good and bad.
And all of that is because we're alive.
All of us. You, too.
Take care.
