Völuvala

It's becoming a tradition: breakups and Völuvala concerts.

Good concert. Good to spend some time with Ulf.

Good to spend some time lost in the pulse and the crowd.

Even in stompy boots I can dance.

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.

Why?

Lucian asked me why.

How can I say that I don't even understand what our last argument was about? That those reasons aren't the real reasons. That Jonny stormed out again and I realised... that this time I wouldn't follow.

That was yesterday. Today was anger.

Fuck you, Jonny. I did my best through all the crap and I deserved better.

And then deflation.

And so did you.

Someone hurt me, Jonny. Someone hurt you, too? Could we cry in each other's arms and make it better?

Then the real world returns.

Free

Reports are coming through that Intaki is free.

Free from Caldari occupation, that is. Now able, I hope, to work out for itself how it feels about its role in the Federation.

Moira.'s done good work. Jonny should be proud.

I should be happy.

Endings

It's been over a year.

Joy. Audacity. Stories woven together. A daughter.

So many arguments and misunderstandings.

I'm worn out.

My heart aches. Why is who I am not right for you? Not right?

I still wish, but I wouldn't any longer call it hope.

I'm walking through the station mall in Gulf. Just walking. There are people. They don't know me. I move through their cool indifference.

What kind of peaceweaver am I if I can't even manage my own relationships?

I've spent so long not talking about the problems to anyone else. Least said: soonest mended. What do I do now? Once I tell Auntie Mara and the clan... they were getting to know him, to like him, to think he might have a future with them. Once I tell them, it changes. Once I tell them it becomes real.

Am I as concerned about failing as about joy?

When do you say 'enough'?

When do I say 'enough'?

I think I just did.

Please let this not be real.

This is real.

Ancestors and erendati, I am not myself today. Guard me while I fly, for I am falling, voiceless, into the void.

Hitches

I still can't think why I'd say yes. But people do: there must be a reason. Perhaps there's some definition of things that makes more sense.

It would be hard to say no without breaking things: families, hearts. Is that why people say yes?

It would be amusing - darkly - to find I'm the better freecaptain.

Tears

I'm leaving her.

I'm feeding her one last time. It still hurts. Each time the contractions; the scars below still healing.

But the milky softness of her; sharp fingernails; strong grip. Sometimes she looks up at me when she's suckling and I feel a desire to protect her that's so strong...

I'm leaving.

Putting my body into special storage where they'll dry me off, heal my new mark. Shucking off the bonds of blood and slipping into cloneflesh again, unchanged since before all this.

They're all here now, to see her claimed as kin. Mother came. Even Uncle Ashlar stood on the same ground as Auntie Mara tonight. She's one of us now, in her own right, her placenta planted in Paiho, her small body washed in the water of Waitimu and clan-marked in ash and oil, salt and blood. Kerem will nurse her and dry her tears, and she will have blood kin and milk kin to stand beside her as she grows. She has a place and a people while her parents roam the stars.

If I just I keep saying it.

It's also the end of this time with Jonny. My new place is built, and was blessed after Maia's naming. He's done well, working alongside the clan to make something.

I look into her eyes...

I've been checking ships. My crews are ready. I've been debating freespace in virtual bars. My mind is already elsewhere.

My heart is tearing.