I felt an instant affinity for Brandon the first time we met. Threading through the grief emanating from him in strong waves was a resolve, a resolve to come through whatever he was going through, and something more, something that touched me in a way I hadn't felt before.
I told Kevin about those feelings that same night. While I treasure so much about our relationship, one of the parts I value most has been our ability to always be honest and transparent with each other. We could and did talk about everything: our concerns, our feelings, and our attractions. All of it communicated in ways that conveyed respect for each other without worrying about hurting the other's feelings. What I had with Kevin was completely different than I had ever experienced in any of my other relationships. Our relationship was forever special and unique to us; nothing could break our connection except that which was within ourselves.
Whatever was touching me regarding Brandon was different. It certainly didn't subtract anything from what I felt for Kevin, or anyone else for that matter. Love in any of its iterations isn't measurable or finite; something that can only be divided and reshuffled, with only so much ever available. Love is closer to the idea of a candle flame, where so long as it is fed, it will always lend its light to another without diminishing itself or the other flames it has ignited.
After discussing and considering the situation, we agreed that I would spend some time with Brandon in the coming weeks to explore what those feelings were on my side. We were united that there would be no indication of my feelings before or after this experiment. Neither of us wanted him to be influenced by anything outside of himself.
I did not choose or even strive to become what I am. It seems inevitable now, each step leading to the next, but doesn't that describe what I call nudges? The fact is that I'm a very influential person now, and I had been for many years by the time I met Brandon. It set me apart in a way I personally regret; not many people are comfortable around me, and rather than hamper their lives, I mostly live my private life around a select group of intimates and a slightly larger group of comfortable acquaintances.
Connections have always been very important to me. But my personal connections must be about Alex, not Alexandra. I had seen the scramble for access to power and wealth in the politics that consumed the surface world in the years leading up to the Catastrophe, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted to do my job to the best of my abilities, but I had no desire or love for the celebrity status that seemed to follow. This made it difficult for me to trust people's intentions during the first few decades of our life here. Still, as my empathic abilities gradually increased after the Catastrophe, I could use that to discern the emotions of those around me in a way I hadn't been able to do earlier. It wasn't something I used indiscriminately, but I did use it when deciding if a person was trustworthy.
For the people in most of the habitats, I was a distant figure, one to be respected, a face and voice on a screen, never being able to respond in real-time to a question or participate in a conversation. Even in my home habitat, NAHE, I was simultaneously the most known and the most private. Everyone knew of me; I was a constant in everyone's life. I had been around when they were born and would be there after they died, looking much the same as I did when I met Brandon.
For me to tell Brandon, at any time, that I felt an affinity toward him could have placed a sense of pressure, possibly even a sense of obligation, on him, and I certainly didn't want that. I desired to keep him untainted, for him to feel his own feelings before and during the experiment. And even after, if something existed, it would arise naturally and in its own time. If it weren't felt by both, it never would come out. I could live with either outcome, but to influence him before he could explore what was within himself as his grief abated would be unfair.
The time when I knew Brandon was a quiet period in our history. Still, the habitats hummed. Three more sections in each had been populated since the Catastrophe, and people had been living under the Charter for more than seven generations. Kindness and acceptance were the foundation upon which these people's lives were built. The role the people of the time took on was critical and subtle, reflecting the work started by Tessa Dobrova and others during that first crucial year I was living in the habitats, weaving the Charter into the very fabrics of our lives by first defining the morality and ethics inherent in its phrases, and incorporating that into our educational standards and from there to every aspect we lived. We learned to live the Charter we signed as an adult, to treat everyone with care and respect, to know everyone was held in equal worth and value by both the government of the habitats and by each other and last of all, to think critically and creatively and to know the difference between the two. Unfortunately, quiet, internal work rarely makes for compelling reading.
But something exciting did happen, and Brandon had taken it upon himself to tell his own stories. I don't have much to add, but I will discuss something he glossed over. Brandon Sheehan was an unsung hero of his time. Not only did he take a small step that was vital to us being able to populate other planets and move between them more quickly than the ancients could travel from one place to another at their best, but he quickly educated himself about the history I was speaking of when telling him the stories from the past. With my permission, he took it upon himself to record my ramblings. He spent his precious time editing them and making my stories more understandable by explaining the relevant history in his forwards instead of keeping my meandering explanations in the order I spoke them. He made these stories available, made them better and placed them in a context I could not.
As it happened, Brandon and I did express our affinities toward each other over time. His romantic relationship with Renee grew at the same time ours did. Renee was a happy, kind and loving person I had been close to for much of her life. The relationships we pursued were separate and did not harm the others in this foursome. Renee's interests with Brandon did not overlap with mine, nor in the interests Kevin shared with him. Brandon was welcomed into our circle of intimates, and I always enjoyed being around all the people I cared about and sharing the love we felt for each other.
The Ethics of Attraction
Alexandra Hanlon - 20625/01/03
Part of the Five Steps Across the Abyss story.
I felt an instant affinity for Brandon the first time we met. Threading through the grief emanating from him in strong waves was a resolve, a resolve to come through whatever he was going through, and something more, something that touched me in a way I hadn't felt before.
I told Kevin about those feelings that same night. While I treasure so much about our relationship, one of the parts I value most has been our ability to always be honest and transparent with each other. We could and did talk about everything: our concerns, our feelings, and our attractions. All of it communicated in ways that conveyed respect for each other without worrying about hurting the other's feelings. What I had with Kevin was completely different than I had ever experienced in any of my other relationships. Our relationship was forever special and unique to us; nothing could break our connection except that which was within ourselves.
Whatever was touching me regarding Brandon was different. It certainly didn't subtract anything from what I felt for Kevin, or anyone else for that matter. Love in any of its iterations isn't measurable or finite; something that can only be divided and reshuffled, with only so much ever available. Love is closer to the idea of a candle flame, where so long as it is fed, it will always lend its light to another without diminishing itself or the other flames it has ignited.
After discussing and considering the situation, we agreed that I would spend some time with Brandon in the coming weeks to explore what those feelings were on my side. We were united that there would be no indication of my feelings before or after this experiment. Neither of us wanted him to be influenced by anything outside of himself.
I did not choose or even strive to become what I am. It seems inevitable now, each step leading to the next, but doesn't that describe what I call nudges? The fact is that I'm a very influential person now, and I had been for many years by the time I met Brandon. It set me apart in a way I personally regret; not many people are comfortable around me, and rather than hamper their lives, I mostly live my private life around a select group of intimates and a slightly larger group of comfortable acquaintances.
Connections have always been very important to me. But my personal connections must be about Alex, not Alexandra. I had seen the scramble for access to power and wealth in the politics that consumed the surface world in the years leading up to the Catastrophe, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted to do my job to the best of my abilities, but I had no desire or love for the celebrity status that seemed to follow. This made it difficult for me to trust people's intentions during the first few decades of our life here. Still, as my empathic abilities gradually increased after the Catastrophe, I could use that to discern the emotions of those around me in a way I hadn't been able to do earlier. It wasn't something I used indiscriminately, but I did use it when deciding if a person was trustworthy.
For the people in most of the habitats, I was a distant figure, one to be respected, a face and voice on a screen, never being able to respond in real-time to a question or participate in a conversation. Even in my home habitat, NAHE, I was simultaneously the most known and the most private. Everyone knew of me; I was a constant in everyone's life. I had been around when they were born and would be there after they died, looking much the same as I did when I met Brandon.
For me to tell Brandon, at any time, that I felt an affinity toward him could have placed a sense of pressure, possibly even a sense of obligation, on him, and I certainly didn't want that. I desired to keep him untainted, for him to feel his own feelings before and during the experiment. And even after, if something existed, it would arise naturally and in its own time. If it weren't felt by both, it never would come out. I could live with either outcome, but to influence him before he could explore what was within himself as his grief abated would be unfair.
The time when I knew Brandon was a quiet period in our history. Still, the habitats hummed. Three more sections in each had been populated since the Catastrophe, and people had been living under the Charter for more than seven generations. Kindness and acceptance were the foundation upon which these people's lives were built. The role the people of the time took on was critical and subtle, reflecting the work started by Tessa Dobrova and others during that first crucial year I was living in the habitats, weaving the Charter into the very fabrics of our lives by first defining the morality and ethics inherent in its phrases, and incorporating that into our educational standards and from there to every aspect we lived. We learned to live the Charter we signed as an adult, to treat everyone with care and respect, to know everyone was held in equal worth and value by both the government of the habitats and by each other and last of all, to think critically and creatively and to know the difference between the two. Unfortunately, quiet, internal work rarely makes for compelling reading.
But something exciting did happen, and Brandon had taken it upon himself to tell his own stories. I don't have much to add, but I will discuss something he glossed over. Brandon Sheehan was an unsung hero of his time. Not only did he take a small step that was vital to us being able to populate other planets and move between them more quickly than the ancients could travel from one place to another at their best, but he quickly educated himself about the history I was speaking of when telling him the stories from the past. With my permission, he took it upon himself to record my ramblings. He spent his precious time editing them and making my stories more understandable by explaining the relevant history in his forwards instead of keeping my meandering explanations in the order I spoke them. He made these stories available, made them better and placed them in a context I could not.
As it happened, Brandon and I did express our affinities toward each other over time. His romantic relationship with Renee grew at the same time ours did. Renee was a happy, kind and loving person I had been close to for much of her life. The relationships we pursued were separate and did not harm the others in this foursome. Renee's interests with Brandon did not overlap with mine, nor in the interests Kevin shared with him. Brandon was welcomed into our circle of intimates, and I always enjoyed being around all the people I cared about and sharing the love we felt for each other.