Today may be an appropriate time to catalog failures.
I have lost one of my attunements. Bob died. A Soldier of God tainted by some wonderful demonic force shot him. Is that not ironic? One of our own side. Bob is currently curled up in Trauma, and his murderer is in the combined hands of Judgement and Trade. The dissonance is gone, but the ache is not.
I am also angry, but I will get to that soon.
Failure two: Arashiel is worried about me. Apparently Irad's sudden reappearance into our collective lives worries her. Bless it, it worries me too. Old wounds there, and Rashi knows they did not heal. She is afraid I may follow him, and while I can honestly say I have no such intentions -- he is a Habbalite of some power and ability, and I love him. Rashi would, I think, kill one or both of us or die trying before she'd let me Fall, or she'd go tromping back to Hell to drag my soul back. I love Rashi -- I must protect Rashi -- and Irad is dangerous to me, and that makes him dangerous to Rashi, too. Clearly, my only option is to *avoid* him. And still. Part of me doesn't want to avoid him, and Rashi knows it. It is a failing that I still feel anything for him. He Fell. That, as they say, is that.
Anger on that too, but let's leave this for failures at the moment, hmm?
And this one -- failure? I am not sure. I have bargained for Rook's itty bitty Geas from Millicent. Was that stupid? Perhaps, from certain standpoints. Now a Lilim has a slightly larger Geas on me than she had on the resident Malakite. She can ask me to do things that could endanger my other attunements. Or my soul, I suppose. On the other hand, I have relieved the Malakite who could simply not cope with the Geas of that particular celestial pain. It isn't painful to *me.* And his suffering is. Was. Something like that. Of course, from his standpoint -- he is not happy with me. I think I hurt his pride. I think he has no idea why I did it, either.
Rashi, we must note, is also less than pleased with me. I beat her to the Geas, you see. That, and she is afraid my already worrisome state of mind is even more fragile now. She is rightfully afraid of what that Geas could do to us, to the Tapestry, to any variety of delicate little matters. Mostly I think she is afraid for me.
And she does not, I have recently discovered, think much of Rook. At least, I do not think she approves of us being lovers. She called him, what was it, a goober? No. A weenie. That comment has ridden the back of my mind all day. That, and 'what do you see in him, Jael?'
Is that my complete catalog of failures, then? Worrying my sibling, losing an attunement and a friend, an upsetting my lover?
Here is another: I find myself honestly, truly angry.
Bob's death is devastating to me, and will likely be forever. I do not lose attunements lightly. Cherubim do not, for the most part, ever grow accustomed to that loss. So tell me, please, why a Malakite feels he has the right to say to me, "Well, this has happened before, hasn't it?" He might as well have hit me. Part of it is pride -- and I know that. The implication is that I lose attunements. My job, naturally, is *not* to lose them. Pride aside, it's bloody insensitive. Thank you, Rook, for rubbing salt into the wound. Yes, actually, I *have* lost attunements before. It *always* hurts.
I lost Irad, after all. That was rather different. He Jumped. It still hurt when he left. So much anger he had then -- and that scares me, because I felt the same anger in me, then, and I feel it again now.
Rashi suggests I talk to Rook about things. This is a rational suggestion. I might try to explain Irad to someone who cannot grasp why attunement loss hurts me . . . if that someone did not also refer to that lost attunement as a 'Redeemed Habbalite.' That's *Elohite*. Angel. But no, to the UnFalling One, once a demon, always a demon. Damned if I am going to tell him about Irad, about the superior whom I still love, when all Rook will hear is 'Fallen.' I think if he asked me how I can care about a demon I would *hurt* him.
This anger frightens me.
He summoned my own Superior today. He had the singular audacity to summon Eli to ask about Bright Lilim who serve Creation. He talked to *my* Superior about his itty bitty Geas. He won't even discuss it with Michael, mind you, but Eli is acceptable. I find that I do not like the implications I read there. I know Eli does not mind, or He would not have answered. Eli is not the sort to mind in any case. But I am angry on my Bright Lord's behalf -- He is an Archangel, and has better things to do with His time than minister to insecure Malakim of War! How *dare* Rook?
Oh Eli, I am *furious.*
And I must not *be* furious. I have seen what rage can do. I have seen Irad now, all tattooed and mutilated. *That* is the legacy of too much anger.
So I retreated to pottery today, and sought solace and stillness in that ritual of creation. It worked...to the extent that the anger gave way to despair. I cried when Rook walked out on me last night not once, but twice, without a word either time. I do not think he saw. I sat there today, hands in clay, and remembered Irad as an Elohite, and how he knew, as Elohim do, how I felt. I thought about his mad bitter eyes, last I saw them, and about his serenity when he was whole. And I thought of Rashi's words: What do you see in Rook, Jael? Answer before today: someone with whom I was not alone. Someone stable, someone who could never be anything but whole, who would never look at me with Hell in his eyes.
Now...now I am not sure. I know he returned today again, and seemed normal and not angry and even took me to bed. I suspect he is lying over there now, not sleeping like I am. Maybe thinking too much, like I am.
Truth is...I love him. I have wounded him in some way, and he is reacting. but he has wounded me, too, and I can, if I think about it, feel the red fury where hurt should be. I wonder if it's my fault for expecting him to save me on some level from my memories. I wonder how angry he is, or what he's feeling, and I dread asking, and dread even more the lie I am fine, Jael. I wonder if he's pretending with me, right now. Keep the loopy Cherub happy. He may feel it's a duty -- Eli, after all, mentioned my instability to him. I will never know, of course, because I am a Cherub. I have to trust what he says . . . and he is not a Seraph. I have the choice of suspicion or blind trust. Or I can try to love by halves, with a shield on my feelings. Painful truth: I am relieved that I have not attuned to him. I do not want that closeness. More painful truth: I doubt him. And most painful: that does not matter. Love come without conditions, no matter that I am afraid now, for the first time, that he is not the haven I had wanted.
Do I sound bitter today, Eli? I feel that way. And cold. Very, very cold.