Sometimes I wonder if there’s a point to it all.
There’s a certain drudgery to it that inevitably sets in after a while, that you can’t just escape. Week after week, visiting the same places. Going through the same movements. Surrounded by the same group of friends. When this kind of routine sets in you have to step back and ask yourself: why am I doing all of this in the first place? Because of some mistaken idealism? Because it’s all I know? Because I can’t imagine spending my days any other way?
It’s difficult to step back and question sometimes. Question not just your environment, but what you yourself are doing. If it’s the right thing, the thing you SHOULD be doing. I used to be sure it was, once. But lately doubts have crept into my mind. I wish there was a way to escape them, to go back to that perfect place I once occupied, to relive those wonderful moments. But they’re gone and all that’s left is me desperately trying to relive the same dream, to no avail.
I do feel like part of me still NEEDS to do this. That there’s some deeper desire I can’t really explain, maybe because of all of the good memories it’s created. Maybe because at the end of the day, I don’t want to think about the alternatives. If I weren’t doing this, weren’t stuck in this particular routine, I’d probably be stuck in another one. And I hardly dare think what that one might be.
But it’s not just that. There’s more to it.
What always drags me back in the end, no matter my personal feelings, is my responsibility to my comrades. I just can’t forsake them, they’ve meant too much to me over the years. We’ve fought so many good fights together, spent so much time just building connections and friendships over the years. You can’t just forget that. They wouldn’t appreciate me leaving, after all this time, not now. Just like I don’t appreciate it whenever one of them says he or she’s had enough. I understand why they do it, but I also feel like they’re abandoning us. Surely this time we’ve spent together is more meaningful than that? Meaningful enough that you can’t just sever a connection built over YEARS in the blink of an eye. At least that’s what I’d like to think. Maybe the reality is different.
I also fear what might happen if I left. This group is stable, thanks to years of building it together. But any one of ours departing leaves a mark. It’s bound to. We don’t have the numbers to render anyone insignificant. And the part I’ve played definitely hasn’t been insignificant. Or is that me overestimating my importance again? Maybe they don’t need me at all. Maybe I just want to be needed.
The thing is, despite all my talk of being needed and not wanting to abandon the group, I’m not just getting sick of this whole situation, this whole routine. I feel like I’m getting sick of THEM as well. Quirks that I hadn’t noticed before are starting to show, and all I can respond with is annoyance. I’ve just lost the patience I once had. And even THAT is just getting on my nerves. I don’t want to be the one who sours up the atmosphere, lowers morale – being the weakest link is my greatest fear. And I definitely don’t want to destroy my ties with my brothers and sisters, simply because *I* don’t want be a part of this anymore.
They’re coming. Maybe my decision of getting out or not will soon be made for me. They’ve been getting closer every week. More and more of my brothers and sisters are falling in combat every time. They’re savages. They can’t possibly understand, nor have they ever tried to. Idealism is completely foreign to them, they’re just intent on killing. Indiscriminately and without hesitation. They wouldn’t understand even if I explained it to them.
My loyalty to my master, my sense of duty, my responsibility to my comrades, they’re all meaningless to them. They just loot and plunder with no regard for anything but themselves. They don’t consider that we have doubts too. Maybe that’s my problem. That the alternative – getting out, escaping this particular routine – will either kill me or make me end up with them. An option seemingly worse than death.
Going through the same movements week after week, patrolling the same roads over and over, desperately defending our territory against their attacks, is a fate I’d vastly prefer over anything which would separate me from my kin.
No, despite my annoyances, with my brothers and sisters, with THIS, despite my reservations in unquestionably following our master, this is too important. This period of my life has been too significant to just forget and abandon, the friends I’ve made too valuable. Leaving is not an option. I will stand and fight.
Leaving would condemn me to forever being an outsider. No matter if I joined those brutes or not. The bonds I’ve forged over the years are too strong to consider that option now.
Belonging is too important.
My name was Flamewaker Pathfinder. Remember me.