The cherub’s observation

He comes to my room, the cherub, and points out that it is not desolate, with the vines.

(This cherub likes his arrows pointed towards himself.)

It is true, it is fecund. The forest has always been there but now it is closer to myself than iron or stone. San’s earth, I suppose, now my own. It is strange that I can taste the pool where we mingle and yet not the bond to arrive there.

I think I have kept the larger portion of us both.

The cherub wishes to speak with Avalon, which is why he has come. He is attracted to pain and of all my children, Avalon is the one who has a heart-wound. Here it comes, then, the single parenthood. There is no one with whom to consult on whether it is a good idea. If he speaks with her I think they will dance. They are the same age.

I suspect San would not approve and of course it is a father’s role to protect from young men in this way. Should I stand in loco patris, or follow my own inclination? And if I create a false San in my mind to say yes or no, do I not deny my own responsibility?

All these questions rouse me from where I have lain.

Perhaps I will ask Lyria. After all she permitted Marai, who is the scholar’s daughter, to participate in the family. But it would be easiest if San would end this denial of contact. I would still welcome him.

I hope Sassy is discovering happiness, not the vague sort of the amusement parks but a true kind, or else it seems a great waste. The little that comes through the filters seems that she takes back that which she had never truly lost, in our 8 hours of the week. Perhaps once she feels it more secure she will ease up. If so then I will see if San meant his signature. I know he is man enough to come if he is permitted, and not to waste the years on false pride.

I think it is traditional that after one year of separation there is divorce. A year would be a good start for Asher, and Lyria comes to parent with me. But I do not wish to initiate it even at a year.



About Jenn

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