Grounding

I've been home the last few days. Being with Maia: playing with her, bathing her and cleaning up the incredible amount of drool she seems to be producing at the moment. Talking to Kerem about her Maako, who's into everything now. Sometimes, of an evening, retiring to my place and jacking in to catch up with what's going on in the cluster and chat in virtual venues.

There are stories people tell about relationships: stories we tell ourselves while we're in them; stories others tell about them and might not ever tell the principals. I feel like those stories have been shifting around me over the last two weeks, seeking a new stable state that will become the common knowledge about me and Jonny.

Just before the end, it seemed that Re-Awakened had finally grouped together behind Jonny. I think some of them thought Bacch might be serious in his stated campaign to woo me, and decided Jonny wasn't so bad after all.

Since the end... it's been hard hearing out the people telling me they were surprised we lasted so long; that we never seemed to have much in common; that they're glad of my choice.

As if it were just my choice. As if, had I chosen differently, things would have turned out differently.

I could choose to accept all this: accept the righteous sympathy and acknowledge lessons learnt. I could be smothered back into the embrace of the tribes, ready to become a model Matari pilot with a nice Matari man.

I loathe the thought.

It wasn't like that. Yes, I know – perhaps more clearly with hindsight – that we came together when we were both alone and lonely, exiled or rebounding. We were, perhaps, too different, and not always patient or kind.

But I know the rest of it, too, and I'll not tarnish my memory of that to ease the pain of losing it.

I will try to learn, though. About saying no as well as yes. About it being okay to be me, even if that costs us us.

It's been good, being here. We'll be at war again soon, though, and the engines will need to be stoked. I'll go to the labs and factories and watch Maia through images and Kerem's recordings. Perhaps I'll even fly.