Immortal Deathwish

I gave her a personal tour of the facilities. Near the end of the tour, she touched my hand, but with the cybernetic shell that encased me I felt nothing but the warm feeling behing her gesture. She realized that immediately, but said nothing at first. Soon afterwards, she had to ask, "Was the operation painful?" "No, nothing worse than stubbing a toe. Not even that bad," I replied. "Any pain I felt wasn't physical." "Oh." She pondered my answer for a few minutes. "So the only pain left for you is in your head, isn't it?" "You are correct," I admitted. "I try to delete any unpleasant memories, in order to minimize the effect. I've probably forgotten just about everything about my life on Earth." She forced a smile. "I'm surprised you still remember me," she said. "I suppose I found our time together mostly pleasant," I answered. "I loved and lost, and I can live with that. The man you married..." "Him you forgot, right?" "I had no reason to remember him." There was an awkward silence as we neared her sleeping quarters, which I broke with the truth, however maudlin it might have sounded. "I have to tell you that back then I never felt more alive." "And what do you feel now?" I left her question unanswered, and just said, "I hope you enjoy your stay on this base. It could be awhile before you and your fellow passengers can continue on your way, but anything I can do to help you and the others to cope with this situation I shall certainly try to do so." "I appreciate that Henry," she said. "Well, I guess I had better get some rest. Can we talk later?" "Certainly. I would like that." She just smiled, then walked away. Melinda had many loves in her life, but I had to be the first one to have become a machine in order to escape the heartbreak. At least, that's how I figured she saw it. But I was no more devoid of the feelings I had for her than I was before; if anything, my editing out of her last husband's existence made my feelings even stronger. The last real memory I had of her was not her telling me we were through, but of a pleasant spring day in a park, speaking of nothing that really mattered, but totally enjoying the prescence of the other, the cool breeze that blew, the acoustic guitar that some unknown musician was playing nearby. It was a beautiful memory, so beautiful that I felt fortunate that my cybernetic shell lacked tear ducts. Anyone watching wouldn't understand that the tears would have been tears of joy. Many days passed before I saw her again. I made myself busy with my duties, obsessing over details I usually paid scant attention to. Whether this was because I had human lives I would be responsible for, or just a way to avoid her I was not sure of. I was certain it was a combination of both, but the more I thought of her, the more important it was to me that I avoid her altogether. Soon, though, I knew her curiousity would make her seek me out, and a few days later as I finished a routine maintenance task on the life support system, I looked up and there she was, observing me with a gaze that made me know she had a lot on her mind. "You seem to have made yourself scarce," she said. I set down my tools. "You must have some questions," I said. "I hope they all have answers."