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A house divided against itself cannot stand. — Matthew, 12:25
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There was a time when her senses had played ugly games with her. After the bacta tank and the endless remembrance of her mother's still warm skin against her own while the world around them was going up in flames. Some memories will always stay with you. No matter how hard you try to toss them out of your mental airlock.
Her great aunt Navi had told her she should cherish the good memories. Remember the things she would miss but not succumb to the anger. Anger wasn't bad; it wasn't a sign of weakness or evil. Anger was just one way for your heart to show you are still grieving.
And for five years, Meirina had only been grieving. The anger had never disappeared, and now, after she had hoped only the embers were left behind by the fire that had started to consume her, the First Order had planted a bomb in the middle of the destroyed ruins which once had housed the wide-eyed blonde padawan.
Now even those ruins were gone, vaporized, erased from existence and the young, gullible padawan was a version of her she wouldn't recognize in the mirror. Meirina started to question if she had ever existed, as many actions of her former self seemed so strange to her. Only the bad things were still something Meirina could feel like an echo in mind and bone.
Perhaps not having any memories — of certain things — was a good thing. She would never have a memory of the life leaving Poe's brown eyes or his warm olive skin turning cold as death claims him. She would only remember a charming, confident smile and a raised eyebrow when watching her talk about a new way to modify her speeder. Endless talks in the night while they would share her secret stack of chocolate and sweet tea. She would always have him, this free-spirited, confident, reckless version.
She had only good memories of him. Why, then, was she feeling like they were all horrible ones? The smile she tried in her mind always turned into a sob while her puffy eyes were staring into the void, holding the pilex driver with trembling fingers.
What good was it to cherish the good memories when they inflict the same pain as bad ones?
Minutes could have passed, and Meirina wouldn't have moved one bit if Beebee hadn't noticed the blonde's paralyzing stand. The small astromech bumped her gently twice before she awakened from the petrification and looked at the round droid.
