“And the stars look very different today,”

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that I am a fan of Star Trek as well as of Star Wars…so I’ll say it now! I’m a fan of Star Trek! Unlike my lifelong fandom of Star Wars, though, I’ve only been aware of the beauty of Star Trek for maybe like…5 years now? One of my best friends, Jeff, showed me the 2009 Star Trek reboot and I loved it, I found it exhilarating and I became attached to the characters quite easily. After easing Hallie and I into the Star Trek realm, Jeff showed us some of the original films as well with the original series cast and a few with The Next Generation. Although I must admit I’m more invested in the reboots, I love Star Trek as a whole. I love the idea that it’s our future, that Captain Kirk is from Iowa, that we would have Starfleet in our universe, that money won’t matter (I refer you to Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home in which the gang goes back in time to the 80’s and William Shatner’s Captain Kirk is all like “oh yeah, they still use money here”), and other wonderful things, like diseases being more curable (I refer you to the same film as I just did a moment ago).

Again, it’s the reboot cast that started my second major space saga love. And that is why the news of Anton Yelchin’s death at just 27 years old is especially heartbreaking to me. I love his Chekov, he was so adorable and endearing. Here is the moment my friends and I fell for this sweet Chekov:

 

I was so fond of this moment that Jeff bought me this for Christmas that year:

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I haven’t put it up, yet, though. I don’t know why, but I’ve been wanting to put this in my own kitchen someday.

Rest in Peace, Anton Yelchin.

 

Unfortunately the loss of sweet Chekov is not the only reason I have felt great sorrow lately. Actually, to be honest, I’m more upset about a more personal loss. One of my coworkers and friends, Mike Szot, passed away last week. He was only 23. I will miss his smile and compassion, and he was just such a wonderful, kind, and caring human being. And I never got to tell him my recent revelation that he looks like a young George Harrison; I had been refraining for the past couple of weeks, I just didn’t want to creep him out, because obviously that would be like saying “omg you’re so lovely and hot”. It still doesn’t even feel real. I still see tall, brown-haired young men from afar and think to myself for but a moment that it could be him. I know it’s not, but my heart doesn’t want to believe that it’s not. Rest in Peace, my friend. I’ll see you again someday.

 

 

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