A New Dawn
I always used to take comfort in the old cliche that no matter how far apart we were, the same sun would beat down upon us. That was when we first met, of course, and you were always so far away. We’d stay up all night talking and the distance would seem to melt away. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t be together, I loved you just the same.
Of course, that all changed with the war. Stupid nonsense, really. Like all wars, no one wanted it, no one wanted to be fighting, and yet we all just did as we were told. We held out hope for a brighter tomorrow, for a new dawn.
The war ended, as wars do, and we could finally be together. I’m sorry, I should have spent more time with you. I realise that now. There was always so much work to be done.
The Earth was dying and a solution had to be found. There would always be time for you later. We had forever, after all. Wasn’t “living for today” what had landed us in the mess we were trying to clean up in the first place?
There really wasn’t any choice in the end. Sure, the world would recover, but not before it had been inhospitable for mankind for a few millenia. We had to leave…and by that time I was so high up in the project, and so absorbed in my work, I don’t think I truly realised what it meant.
I always thought there’d be a future for us, even though my entire life had become preparing for the fact that there wouldn’t be one.
I always thought you’d still be there for me, no matter how far apart we were.
And so this morning I find myself watching the sunrise in the skies over Epsilon Eridani. I realise that, for the first time, it’s a different sun beating down on both of us, and that you’re ten years older now.
Or, rather, you would be, if you weren’t dead like everyone else we left behind.