EPT
Nothing extreme, but if I see you on the street, in a bar, or in the hall of the KGB headquarters, chances are - I don't want you to exist at that point in time, at least until you buy me a drink or something. Nothing personal.
Makes it hard to make friends, makes you value them and makes you want to do an improvised redecoration of a near wall with your grey matter when those friends just leave you.
It happened a couple of times, the latest one had a particularly unfortunate timing colliding with other fun instances of family and school life and resulted in me enlisting for the KGB's first experimental Expendables Division.
It were hard and unforgiving solitary years of constant Dota, inferior-language and cutting-ice-with-your-bare-hands training, any human interactions strictly forbidden, and it's not like you would have much company in in the abandoned secret military base in the centre of the North Pole anyway.
Until one day, when some drunk third world flight dispatcher sent a plane right over our base. Happens all the time, really. But that day it was special.
That day I met her.
Casually parachuting down to ask some directions, like a shining star that dulls even the razor-white northern glaciers with its piercing light, she landed next right next to my hand built ice hut, and she talked to me.
Nobody ever talked to me, I guess a simple thought of talking with such a superior person makes people insecure and question their own existence.
Anyway, it's been quite awhile since someone wanted to talk to me simply for the sake of just talking, and enjoying my company at that. The feeling was mutual, really; but still, I was taken aback, not really understanding what was going on at first.
At first, the dialogue wasn't very extensive, but we exchanged our contacts before she took one of my jet-packs to get back to the plane, and we continued talking regularly.
Day after day, we learned more about each other (I had to withhold some critical information in order not to jeopardise the mission, but she understood), we seemed to have a whole lot in common, and finding our differences was even more interesting.
Bit by bit, we started to share much with each other, started trusting each other, became close. I even told her my real name (HQ probably wouldn't like to hear of it, so don't tell them). Hell. I even started to bring her in for some combat training. It was fun.
Feeling valuable to someone felt good. I don't remember a single person in my life I was comfortable being that open with, being that close with.
In fact, for such a lonely, asocial, mentally scarred secret agent like me, finally having someone to help you unload all the bullshit from your head felt too good. I got addicted to it, started to take it as a given, to overdo it.
Having a Russian guy with unclear background and possible grey military connections pour his not particularly rainbowy soul to you every 12 hours can be a pressuring experience. Especially when he starts to grow dependant.
Being solely responsible for the mood and mental stability of a secret agent, and as a result, for the success of the *REDACTED* mission, for the fate of the world, is just too much for a regular human being. As clear as it is for me now, I didn't understand that at first.
Months went by, I finally finished my training and joined an active cell codenamed VP. As one part of my life started to go uphill, the other came close to a cliff that can best be described as a Dota 2 learning curve.
She stopped coming for our usual marksman practice and our evening potential enemy's culture research. Trying to inquire for the reasons and asking to try for other kinds of leisure brought no results. It was the first time she actually acted very closed and distanced from me.
Right now the reason is obvious, but back then such change of attitude only turned it for the worst. I felt like a valuable part of my life started to slip away. I was confused and more than a little distraught. I always tried to be a good and understanding kind of a friend, but in an attempt to try to get my friend's attention back without actually understanding what was wrong, I only pressured her more.
I couldn't see past myself and my own problems. I have a pair and maybe I should have used it to suck it up even if I couldn't find a way to deal with it.
In the end I effectively drove my closest friend away, because other non-special-agent people want to have their lives and deal with their own problems, oblivious of the hidden menaces to the world, like the one hiding behind the AZUBU esports network.
That much I understand now, but when I finally learned of the reasons and when I tried to fix it, it was too late. By that point everything we went through, all those evening of us carefully studying strategical planning in a volatile combat environment, and all our unmanned drone test flights were worth nothing. By that point I felt like I myself was worth nothing.
One of her last words to me before we cut off our contacts were that she still thinks of me as a friend, and yet, after looking back at how fast things went from bad to SW Episode 2, I can not help but question if I really ever was.
Well, alone again or not, I have my mission I trained for and the world isn't going to save itself either way.
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