vivi e lascia vivere

Everest

Thoughtfully Everest peers across the table, briefly distracted by the glint of light on Mateo's spoon, before his gaze refocuses on the botanist. 'Those are very good points.' He agrees readily, with a nod, before his mind gets the better of him and he finds his nose crinkling with counterarguments. "But what about when we tell people that they shouldn't be mean? Or shouldn't murder, or shouldn't lie? Is the way I am not like that?" It wasn't that he was just different; wasn't he a way he shouldn't be.

Not wanting to let his food get cold, Everest takes the opportunity to eat several mouthfuls of soup while Mateo considers. "So when you are happy, that means you aren't happy, and vice-versa?" It might sound like a nonsense question, and realizing this, the aviator gives his head a frustrated little shake. "I mean, is it one or the other? You're always happy, or you're not? Because then I think I am usually unhappy." Moments of happiness for the aviator were like shooting stars; rare, beautiful, and brilliantly bright occurrences that you might hope to see but would never expect. Moments like making snow parents with Mateo. Otherwise, the aviator's life was a series of tasks to complete and rules to follow. Mostly it was confusing and hard, often it was uncomfortable, and rarely it was okay.

I've done the math, checked the facts
And there's no changing that