Hatnode explorer: I left in search of myself

I wish I had loved something so much that I cried for it. I've seen what love can do to some, how it can inspire them to create art, motivate them to dedicate their body their soul, and build something amazing.

All I have is a desire to feel, and with that desire, I feel. I cry because I cannot cry for anything else. I hurt because nothing else can hurt me. And my happiness comes in fleeting moments because I have nothing to suffer for.

I find myself in a position where I can look down at my body, at my arms and fingers, and imagine how others might see me in this very moment. Fallen, injured, with hot blood pumping through me, reviving my brain, keeping me awake and my muscles tensed.

Part of me feels proud of my body as I forge ahead, trained and hard, yet for what purpose? Why did I do this to myself, push myself past my limits, tread where so many fear to go, propelled forward, not as a soldier, not as a mercenary, but as an explorer in a universe so vast and dangerous? I must spill blood many times just to see what lies beyond.

How far has humanity advanced? I do not know. How many generations have passed? My sister's children have grown and died, and from them, have sprung numerous others. I do not know, and I do not ask.

The path is complex and hard, yet my goal is simple - to go forward. I am an explorer, shot into the stars, the first impression many worlds and species have of what a human is, but I can only show them the limited example of who I am, alone, hurt, and weary.

I am weary, weary of the constant display of strength, the exertion to forge a path for those who will follow, and the instilling of the fear of humanity into the hearts of those who might otherwise oppose us. Although we are not alone, we are all lonely in this team.

Although I can only give credit to the machines that leap ahead, leap forward, and create the gates we use, we are the ones who secure the space around the gates near life. But we are not soldiers, we are not mercenaries, we are here not to kill or destroy, but to bore peace with the locals near the gates. It is unfortunate that most races in the universe must first perceive you as strong, before they perceive you as a friend.

And so I pull myself up again, nose bleeding, body bruised, and I clench my fists. I could see fear in its eyes; it didn't expect me to stand up again. They never do in the countless trials that exist. I've battled with swords, sticks, guns, fists, and even my mind. Every race has its own trial or its own war that hinders our goal.

Although I do not know defeat, thanks to the technology beneath my skin and the training in my past, I do not know love, and the same factors are likely to blame.