Space... I belong out here. It's been over a year since I left the bubble and headed for the so-called "void" at the edge of the galaxy. When you've been out here as long as I have, it's not uncommon to ask why. Why exactly am I out here? What am I looking for? What do I hope to achieve?
I remember the day I made up my mind to leave. I remember thinking It'd never get better. I'd never fit in with my own human species. I was a weirdo; an alien; an outsider. I remember being absolutely terrified of people. Terrified of being vulnerable. Terrified of showing my true colours because of what I thought they'd find under my cool, hard exterior. I couldn't last three damn minutes in a conversation before wanting to end it all and frame shift into a new system several light years away.
And so I ran. I ran as fast and as far as my 43LY jump range cutter would carry me. Deeper, deeper into the void, all the while reassuring myself that I was out here because of some transcendental purpose. Now, as I stray ever further from humanity, it all sounds so ridiculous. Pushing people away without ever giving them a chance. Being ashamed of the very passions that shaped my life. Putting trillions of people into these little boxes I made based on a few quick conversations.
Now, as I sit here planning my next waypoint, I'm wondering again about why I'm out here, what I'm looking for. I'm wondering, if what I'm looking for was right there in my life the whole time.