Academy graduation day was supposed to be a happy one, and she supposed it was. She certainly was thrilled to be a Starfleet officer, and excited about her upcoming first mission. However, at this moment, she felt an odd sort of all too familiar emptiness. She watched as the friends and families of her fellow graduates swarmed around them, offering their congratulations, beaming proudly as their son or daughter received their commission. Amara knew very well that there was no one in that crowd for her. Not a single person to offer kind words or a simple “I’m proud of you.” By now she supposed she should be used to it, but it still stung a little.
Amara had worked hard to make it through the Academy. Her academic background was lacking, and she was plagued with self-doubt to the point that it was often a sort of self-loathing that clung on, making it impossible to see how far she’d come. Slowly, she’d overcome that. She hadn’t quit. She’d fought to pass every requirement. She worked what often seemed to be twice as hard as any other cadet she knew, but she did it. She graduated from Starfleet Academy. She made it, and she was proud of that accomplishment. She’d never felt more proud of herself in her entire life.
However, big moments seem to diminish when you have no one to share them with. She knew what she’d accomplished, but it would have meant the world to hear someone else say “Hey, you did it. I’m proud of you.” To be recognized. To know that someone else out there had been rooting for her, watching her, hoping she’d make it. She’d never had anyone say that to her before. In her entire life, she’d never made anyone proud. Everything she’d ever done, she’d done on her own, and she was used to that, but today? Today she would have liked someone to share this moment with.
The rest of her classmates were busy with their own friends and families, and she didn’t want to intrude on their happiness, nor did she want to diminish the celebrating with her awkward presence. So Amara chose to keep her distance, watching quietly as the crowd began to dissipate to continue their celebration elsewhere. She wondered why she continued to stand here and torture herself. If she were smart she’d just leave, but she couldn’t. Maybe it was lingering hope that someone was there for her, or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t know where to go right now. Either way, here she stood, Starfleet’s newest Ensign, a member of something great, something important, that meant something, and yet… she was still alone.
confused