Mr. Reese has not indicated to me he wants that kind of relationship, so no. And I wouldn't assume it to be the case of anyone without confirmation.
[ Harold is very much the sort of person who thinks consent should be explicit and enthusiastic. Only yes means yes. And though it's vanishingly rare for Harold to speak frankly about this, he thinks Accelerator is owed some clarity on who he and John are to each other. It's a natural thing to wonder about if he's going to be living with them, unspoken arrangement or not. ]
No, I meant that you encountered him on Auriel, endured him taunting you and metaphorically "killing" you again, and restrained yourself. If forgiveness is an action then you're doing it already.
[He isn't sure what that says about him that he was making that assumption in particular. He'd like to chalk to up to the society he was raised in without any further reflection. That's a hell of a lot easier than the alternative.]
I wasn't doing that out of any sense of fucking kindness towards him. It was a necessity for the mission. I was being pragmatic.
[And it had been a huge struggle the entire time. Part of himself still hates that he refrained from doing anything.]
[ Thankfully, Accelerator wasn't crass in response, which means he gets to keep the hard-earned privilege of Harold being forthright about his personal relationships with him. ]
It doesn't lessen our relationship in my mind any, in case that has to be said. I've never been overly concerned with ascribing to social conventions.
Intent and outcome are wholly, mercifully separate. [ Then he has to stop and struggle with himself over what to type next, because Harold has a huge spinning array of thoughts on this topic, and he needs to distill them down rather than just go off on a lecture about one of his favorite ethical dilemmas. ]
I can't measure what you might have done or why you did it, only what you did do. It was a foundational premise to how I built the Machine. And it was vital to prevent it from being used as a tool for abuse.
[It's a miracle Accelerator isn't being as vulgar as he could be. The line between vulgarity and straightforwardness can be a thin one, and he's trying to make an effort to balance it. Somewhat.
Anyways, this conversation is making it very clear that he doesn't actually know what Harold and John's relationship is. They're partners, but if one removes the physical component from that description, and take Harold's lack of interest in social conventions into account, what's left is... very vague and ambiguous.
Since they're talking about, he thinks he may as well ask. They're already starting to clear the air, there isn't any reason to stop now.]
Then what the hell are you two?
[It is, at least, a lot easier to ask that than tackle the rest of Harold's texts. This is far from the first time Harold has compared him to the Machine, and it makes him wonder what she would do if she was in this position. Which, ironically, she may have been? He doesn't know the details of her creation, but Harold has told him a few key things in the past.]
Didn't she try to kill you a bunch of times?
[He knows that whole situation must have been complicated, but he has to ask anyways.]
[ Harold can handle others being straightforward even if he himself usually isn't -- but being vulgar about his loved ones crosses a line that makes him clam up, so it's effort well-spent. ]
I've never been troubled by the need to find a label for it. We care for one another very much.
[ There's Harold's lack of concern for social convention coming into play again. His deep appreciation of the complexity of humanity, of emotions and of morals, means he doesn't feel compelled to define things too closely. The ambiguity is where reality sits. ]
Yes, sometimes for credible reasons. I could and did terminate the Machine multiple times. It was not illogical for it to see me as a threat.
But that isn't what I was getting at. If you, like the Machine, could predict behavior to varying degrees of accuracy, what threshold would you pick for when to intervene? How confident do you need to be in your prediction to treat someone as a criminal? I had and continued to have the capacity to terminate her existence. Why did she cease seeing me as a threat?
[It's kind of crazy to hear that. Yes, Harold is sentimental and more in touch with his emotions than he is, but he's still a logical person. You don't build the first goddamn sentient AI without having the kind of mindset that lends itself to analyzing, categorizing, formulating clear answers. And this is not that.]
That depends on what lens I'm using to judge someone with. Back home it's easy, since I'm the head of the city it's my responsibility to make sure people have the freedom and privacy to make their own choices, and when those choices are counter to fair laws I'm the one who makes sure they're prosecuted and rehabilitated in a way that allows them to learn from their mistakes and become productive members of society, and not fall through the fucking cracks.
[It's a burden, but it also provides him with a certain amount of structure and a clear direction.]
In Etraya I don't have that responsibility. It doesn't even fucking matter that I'm the #1. We don't even have a legal system to act as a yardstick for what's considered criminal, so all I have to go off of are my own experiences and emotions.
[Which is intensely frustrating! He doesn't like his emotions, he hates that they exist and he refuses to engage with them on any meaningful level as much as possible.]
Why should I? John hasn't asked for it or seemed dissatisfied with the way things are, and I'm not about to for anyone else's sake.
[ Harold really, truly, genuinely could not care less what other people think of his relationships. Words are communication tools, not limiters on reality. If the person in question needs more communication, he will oblige, but if there's no need for it then he doesn't see the point for its own sake. Limitations are so often just society-approved illusions.
Then he reads over the rest of this message closely, taking it in. Accelerator is usually quite terse, so he takes this as a sign that this topic touches him acutely. ]
Enforcing an established legal system is a reasonable fallback when you've just been thrust into a position of immense authority, so don't take this comment as a criticism. But as with the Machine, laws will not be adequate for who you are or who you might become. You must form your own judgment.
I'm liable to talk in circles on this concept, as it weighed on me heavily for many years, so I'll cut to the chase. Things you have almost done don't count on the moral scale. Things you might do don't count. Things you are capable of, thoughts you've had, even your feelings -- they can't ever be measured. It's like solving an equation without defining a key constant. That undefined constant remains, a ghost weighing over you casting doubt on your conclusions.
The only certainty you can have is through judging by actions alone. And I am proud of your actions.
I don't know. It just seems like leaving it vague would be difficult to manage.
[It would be for him, if he was in that position. He has only recently gotten used to the idea of having familial relationships, he would have no idea what to do with himself with anything beyond that.
He reads the rest of this quietly, not taking any of it as criticism on his actions as the Board Chairman. Harold isn't wrong, there have already been incidents that have gone beyond Academy City's legal system, and even within it he knows there are flaws that need to be corrected. That's far easier for him to accept than the rest of Harold's message.
It's always been easy for Accelerator to accept the worst of himself. Having grown up in an environment that only ever saw that part of him it's the part of him that's always been at the forefront — it's what all the researchers and scientists saw during all those experiments he was part of, it's what other espers saw when they attacked him due to his status, it's what the clones saw when he was killing them. Last Order was the first person to see the rest of him, and while she will always mean the world to him for that it doesn't mean he's suddenly a good person. At the end of the day, he's still a monster.
His actions show he's a monster. That's a fact, and that's why he's so bewildered to read that Harold is proud of him.]
What? How the hell can you say that after everything I've done? I've killed people back home, and I couldn't even stop myself from killing someone here. You have nothing to be proud of.
It hasn't been so far. But John and I are used to leaving things unstated in our line of work. I can't say the lives we lead are normal.
[ Professional spies and paranoids are maybe not the right people to take relationship advice from, he realizes.
Reading the second part makes him feel old. Harold wonders how long the shelf-life is for sins in Accelerator's mind. How much time needs to pass before you can consider newer, more recent actions instead of older ones? How does he even try to explain to someone whose brain is not yet fully formed -- and is heavily damaged, and operates non-biologically in some aspects -- that the intensity and immediacy of his emotions are deceptive? That two contradictory things can be true at once, and he has to hold them both in his mind. ]
You were confronted with a highly trying and, dare I say it, distressing situation, and you handled it without violence. We have safeguards established, but we didn't need them. I didn't even know it occurred. I gave my word that we would not escalate things further, and you upheld it.
I know that wasn't simple or easy for you, so I am proud.
Just because the lives you two led back home weren't normal doesn't mean that has to keep going here. Is that what you want?
[As much as he dislikes admitting it, there are parts of normalcy that he would like. A family, for one, which he supposes is sort of why he's talking to Harold right now and not hunting down Sleipnir. Harold is parental in a way that he never got to experience growing up, it's a flicker of normalcy that he's allowing himself.
And maybe that's a mistake, considering how hard it is for him to accept the exceedingly parental statement of I'm proud of you. There is several minutes of silence as Accelerator stares at the text, reading it over several times.]
You're really proud that I didn't do anything?
[Why, why is it so hard to wrap his head around that?]
A worthwhile question. We both chose our lives at home, but we have different options here, don't we? I don't know if I have an answer yet.
It's not something I ever thought would be possible.
[ Once in a while in Etraya he's struck by something innocuous, something like the experience of grief but with complexity to the loss. There is loss, yes, but as Accelerator points out, there are differences here. Opportunities they didn't have before. It's tough to emotionally navigate, and slow-going, like wading through a current of water without being swept away. ]
Yes. I am. Is that too presumptuous of me?
[ He is aware that he's stepping partly into a... familial... sort of role. It's worth asking straightforwardly if Accelerator is even okay with that. Being Harold, he asks in a way that doesn't demand they name it out loud for what it is. He's not sure how comfortable with it he is yet. ]
Oh. [Not having an answer makes sense.] I guess you're not in any rush to figure that out?
[If they're both comfortable and intent on staying here, then why try to speed through things?
Accelerator hesitates before sending the next text. Accepting an adult who isn't horrible in his life isn't easy for him, and even more difficult than that is admitting it. But he was able to do something similar with Last Order, and he'd like to think he's been able to grow from that exchange.]
No. It's just
[God, he can't believe he's typing this next part. It's an amount of emotional honesty that makes him shudder.]
It doesn't feel like something you should be proud of. I was scared the entire time, and the only thing I could think of was how easy it would be to throw him through a wall even though we were in the fucking castle.
And when he left I was just disgusted with myself, for not doing anything and for wanting to be that violent.
[Disgust, shame, fear... all things he had felt that day, and still feels even though it's been weeks.]
I know you said you're judging my actions, not my thoughts and feelings, but it still feels like you should be judging them.
[ He deliberately doesn't add something about how he is at peace about dying without this resolved if that's what John prefers, because he doesn't want to alarm Accelerator. The same way earlier he had thought it but declined to say, He died for me, to save me and for my ideals; I have nothing I could doubt.
What are labels in the face of that? Meanwhile, he's conscientious that Accelerator had needed him to confirm twice that he was proud of him, and considers how to drive the point home. He never intended to become this kind of figure for him -- he hesitates to name it in even in his own mind -- but, just like with the Machine, here it is. He can accept it, or accept the consequences of refusing to. ]
For your fear and disgust I have only compassion. You are not alone in those feelings. Or would you judge me for the same?
[He supposes that if Harold doesn't want to, he can see John being the same way. It's still kind of weird to him, but if neither of them want to then it isn't a problem, is it?
On its own that question isn't difficult to answer, it's when it's surrounded by all that context that it becomes complicated. Or... rather, in Accelerator's mind it does, because the obvious, correct answer means confirming what Harold has just said: that compassion is (and should be) extended to him.
Unsurprisingly, that's a tough pill for Accelerator to swallow. But he does, because despite his own feelings (mainly his self-loathing), he gets that it's the right thing to do.]
He hasn't indicated to me that he does, and I haven't asked.
[ He hesitates, but given the overall emotional honesty he's tacitly demanding of Accelerator in this conversation, he forces himself to go farther. ]
I wouldn't jeopardize what we have for anything.
[ He died for me, Harold thinks again, helplessly, in a very personal way, and then wrenches his mind forward and on. It lands inexorably on Caleb Phipps, once about to throw himself in front of a train and later a pivotal piece of the puzzle to taking down Samaritan. In the wake of failing to save Claire Mahoney, it'd been so easy to forget about the young person he had saved. But then he'd looked at him and said Mr. Swift and offered him anything that he had. ]
Who you are is not a divisible number. No one of us can be distilled to any more elementary piece, any smaller value. Each person is a unique and irrational number, and our component feelings and mistakes and losses can't be precisely quantified enough to pull them out.
Trying to solve for that is like thinking you can find the last digit of pi -- not only is that futile, but you've discovered pi and you're fixated on finding its decimals, like that even matters in the slightest compared to what it is. It's a waste.
So no, I don't judge your feelings. They are a few decimals in an infinite, undefinable number.
[It's an honest question, he's even avoiding any cursing when he types that out. He's aware from cultural osmosis that communication in a relationship, even one you don't define, is important, but with Harold and John's relationship already being so unusual Accelerator isn't sure if talking about it is even necessary for the two of them.
He reads through the rest, the mathematical way Harold is trying to explain this hitting him deeply. He imagines that wouldn't be the case for most people, but he isn't most people.]
It's hard to believe that. For as long as I can remember I've defined the entire goddamn world by solving mathematical formulas, including myself. [He's taking what Harold says seriously though, ruminating on it.] But I guess that's just the easy way out for someone like me, right? It's a lot harder for me to just accept those decimals don't matter.
Maybe not. [ He has to concede that; it's hard to fathom anything could shake the foundation he and John have now, the resolve they have to stick together. That much they have agreed on out loud. ] But it's not the sort of thing you casually slide into conversation.
[ Harold is good at thinking things through -- not so much at talking. His painfully precise, articulate manner of speech is partly a deliberate attempt to make up for that.
It's such a relief to see that his words hit home somehow. Harold cares so desperately about getting this right. ]
You have so much control over the world around you, I can imagine it's frustrating for there to be elements outside of that control, especially within yourself. But our minds do not work rationally, so attempting to corral your thoughts and feelings (or anyone else's) with rationality is a bit of a fool's errand.
I have two books I might suggest for you if you want more thinking on this topic that isn't me waxing eloquent over the text messaging system.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Harold is very much the sort of person who thinks consent should be explicit and enthusiastic. Only yes means yes. And though it's vanishingly rare for Harold to speak frankly about this, he thinks Accelerator is owed some clarity on who he and John are to each other. It's a natural thing to wonder about if he's going to be living with them, unspoken arrangement or not. ]
No, I meant that you encountered him on Auriel, endured him taunting you and metaphorically "killing" you again, and restrained yourself. If forgiveness is an action then you're doing it already.
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[He isn't sure what that says about him that he was making that assumption in particular. He'd like to chalk to up to the society he was raised in without any further reflection. That's a hell of a lot easier than the alternative.]
I wasn't doing that out of any sense of fucking kindness towards him. It was a necessity for the mission. I was being pragmatic.
[And it had been a huge struggle the entire time. Part of himself still hates that he refrained from doing anything.]
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It doesn't lessen our relationship in my mind any, in case that has to be said. I've never been overly concerned with ascribing to social conventions.
Intent and outcome are wholly, mercifully separate. [ Then he has to stop and struggle with himself over what to type next, because Harold has a huge spinning array of thoughts on this topic, and he needs to distill them down rather than just go off on a lecture about one of his favorite ethical dilemmas. ]
I can't measure what you might have done or why you did it, only what you did do. It was a foundational premise to how I built the Machine. And it was vital to prevent it from being used as a tool for abuse.
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Anyways, this conversation is making it very clear that he doesn't actually know what Harold and John's relationship is. They're partners, but if one removes the physical component from that description, and take Harold's lack of interest in social conventions into account, what's left is... very vague and ambiguous.
Since they're talking about, he thinks he may as well ask. They're already starting to clear the air, there isn't any reason to stop now.]
Then what the hell are you two?
[It is, at least, a lot easier to ask that than tackle the rest of Harold's texts. This is far from the first time Harold has compared him to the Machine, and it makes him wonder what she would do if she was in this position. Which, ironically, she may have been? He doesn't know the details of her creation, but Harold has told him a few key things in the past.]
Didn't she try to kill you a bunch of times?
[He knows that whole situation must have been complicated, but he has to ask anyways.]
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I've never been troubled by the need to find a label for it. We care for one another very much.
[ There's Harold's lack of concern for social convention coming into play again. His deep appreciation of the complexity of humanity, of emotions and of morals, means he doesn't feel compelled to define things too closely. The ambiguity is where reality sits. ]
Yes, sometimes for credible reasons. I could and did terminate the Machine multiple times. It was not illogical for it to see me as a threat.
But that isn't what I was getting at. If you, like the Machine, could predict behavior to varying degrees of accuracy, what threshold would you pick for when to intervene? How confident do you need to be in your prediction to treat someone as a criminal? I had and continued to have the capacity to terminate her existence. Why did she cease seeing me as a threat?
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[It's kind of crazy to hear that. Yes, Harold is sentimental and more in touch with his emotions than he is, but he's still a logical person. You don't build the first goddamn sentient AI without having the kind of mindset that lends itself to analyzing, categorizing, formulating clear answers. And this is not that.]
That depends on what lens I'm using to judge someone with. Back home it's easy, since I'm the head of the city it's my responsibility to make sure people have the freedom and privacy to make their own choices, and when those choices are counter to fair laws I'm the one who makes sure they're prosecuted and rehabilitated in a way that allows them to learn from their mistakes and become productive members of society, and not fall through the fucking cracks.
[It's a burden, but it also provides him with a certain amount of structure and a clear direction.]
In Etraya I don't have that responsibility. It doesn't even fucking matter that I'm the #1. We don't even have a legal system to act as a yardstick for what's considered criminal, so all I have to go off of are my own experiences and emotions.
[Which is intensely frustrating! He doesn't like his emotions, he hates that they exist and he refuses to engage with them on any meaningful level as much as possible.]
no subject
[ Harold really, truly, genuinely could not care less what other people think of his relationships. Words are communication tools, not limiters on reality. If the person in question needs more communication, he will oblige, but if there's no need for it then he doesn't see the point for its own sake. Limitations are so often just society-approved illusions.
Then he reads over the rest of this message closely, taking it in. Accelerator is usually quite terse, so he takes this as a sign that this topic touches him acutely. ]
Enforcing an established legal system is a reasonable fallback when you've just been thrust into a position of immense authority, so don't take this comment as a criticism. But as with the Machine, laws will not be adequate for who you are or who you might become. You must form your own judgment.
I'm liable to talk in circles on this concept, as it weighed on me heavily for many years, so I'll cut to the chase. Things you have almost done don't count on the moral scale. Things you might do don't count. Things you are capable of, thoughts you've had, even your feelings -- they can't ever be measured. It's like solving an equation without defining a key constant. That undefined constant remains, a ghost weighing over you casting doubt on your conclusions.
The only certainty you can have is through judging by actions alone. And I am proud of your actions.
no subject
[It would be for him, if he was in that position. He has only recently gotten used to the idea of having familial relationships, he would have no idea what to do with himself with anything beyond that.
He reads the rest of this quietly, not taking any of it as criticism on his actions as the Board Chairman. Harold isn't wrong, there have already been incidents that have gone beyond Academy City's legal system, and even within it he knows there are flaws that need to be corrected. That's far easier for him to accept than the rest of Harold's message.
It's always been easy for Accelerator to accept the worst of himself. Having grown up in an environment that only ever saw that part of him it's the part of him that's always been at the forefront — it's what all the researchers and scientists saw during all those experiments he was part of, it's what other espers saw when they attacked him due to his status, it's what the clones saw when he was killing them. Last Order was the first person to see the rest of him, and while she will always mean the world to him for that it doesn't mean he's suddenly a good person. At the end of the day, he's still a monster.
His actions show he's a monster. That's a fact, and that's why he's so bewildered to read that Harold is proud of him.]
What? How the hell can you say that after everything I've done? I've killed people back home, and I couldn't even stop myself from killing someone here. You have nothing to be proud of.
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[ Professional spies and paranoids are maybe not the right people to take relationship advice from, he realizes.
Reading the second part makes him feel old. Harold wonders how long the shelf-life is for sins in Accelerator's mind. How much time needs to pass before you can consider newer, more recent actions instead of older ones? How does he even try to explain to someone whose brain is not yet fully formed -- and is heavily damaged, and operates non-biologically in some aspects -- that the intensity and immediacy of his emotions are deceptive? That two contradictory things can be true at once, and he has to hold them both in his mind. ]
You were confronted with a highly trying and, dare I say it, distressing situation, and you handled it without violence. We have safeguards established, but we didn't need them. I didn't even know it occurred. I gave my word that we would not escalate things further, and you upheld it.
I know that wasn't simple or easy for you, so I am proud.
no subject
[As much as he dislikes admitting it, there are parts of normalcy that he would like. A family, for one, which he supposes is sort of why he's talking to Harold right now and not hunting down Sleipnir. Harold is parental in a way that he never got to experience growing up, it's a flicker of normalcy that he's allowing himself.
And maybe that's a mistake, considering how hard it is for him to accept the exceedingly parental statement of I'm proud of you. There is several minutes of silence as Accelerator stares at the text, reading it over several times.]
You're really proud that I didn't do anything?
[Why, why is it so hard to wrap his head around that?]
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It's not something I ever thought would be possible.
[ Once in a while in Etraya he's struck by something innocuous, something like the experience of grief but with complexity to the loss. There is loss, yes, but as Accelerator points out, there are differences here. Opportunities they didn't have before. It's tough to emotionally navigate, and slow-going, like wading through a current of water without being swept away. ]
Yes. I am. Is that too presumptuous of me?
[ He is aware that he's stepping partly into a... familial... sort of role. It's worth asking straightforwardly if Accelerator is even okay with that. Being Harold, he asks in a way that doesn't demand they name it out loud for what it is. He's not sure how comfortable with it he is yet. ]
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[If they're both comfortable and intent on staying here, then why try to speed through things?
Accelerator hesitates before sending the next text. Accepting an adult who isn't horrible in his life isn't easy for him, and even more difficult than that is admitting it. But he was able to do something similar with Last Order, and he'd like to think he's been able to grow from that exchange.]
No. It's just
[God, he can't believe he's typing this next part. It's an amount of emotional honesty that makes him shudder.]
It doesn't feel like something you should be proud of. I was scared the entire time, and the only thing I could think of was how easy it would be to throw him through a wall even though we were in the fucking castle.
And when he left I was just disgusted with myself, for not doing anything and for wanting to be that violent.
[Disgust, shame, fear... all things he had felt that day, and still feels even though it's been weeks.]
I know you said you're judging my actions, not my thoughts and feelings, but it still feels like you should be judging them.
no subject
[ He deliberately doesn't add something about how he is at peace about dying without this resolved if that's what John prefers, because he doesn't want to alarm Accelerator. The same way earlier he had thought it but declined to say, He died for me, to save me and for my ideals; I have nothing I could doubt.
What are labels in the face of that? Meanwhile, he's conscientious that Accelerator had needed him to confirm twice that he was proud of him, and considers how to drive the point home. He never intended to become this kind of figure for him -- he hesitates to name it in even in his own mind -- but, just like with the Machine, here it is. He can accept it, or accept the consequences of refusing to. ]
For your fear and disgust I have only compassion. You are not alone in those feelings. Or would you judge me for the same?
no subject
[He supposes that if Harold doesn't want to, he can see John being the same way. It's still kind of weird to him, but if neither of them want to then it isn't a problem, is it?
On its own that question isn't difficult to answer, it's when it's surrounded by all that context that it becomes complicated. Or... rather, in Accelerator's mind it does, because the obvious, correct answer means confirming what Harold has just said: that compassion is (and should be) extended to him.
Unsurprisingly, that's a tough pill for Accelerator to swallow. But he does, because despite his own feelings (mainly his self-loathing), he gets that it's the right thing to do.]
No. I wouldn't.
no subject
[ He hesitates, but given the overall emotional honesty he's tacitly demanding of Accelerator in this conversation, he forces himself to go farther. ]
I wouldn't jeopardize what we have for anything.
[ He died for me, Harold thinks again, helplessly, in a very personal way, and then wrenches his mind forward and on. It lands inexorably on Caleb Phipps, once about to throw himself in front of a train and later a pivotal piece of the puzzle to taking down Samaritan. In the wake of failing to save Claire Mahoney, it'd been so easy to forget about the young person he had saved. But then he'd looked at him and said Mr. Swift and offered him anything that he had. ]
Who you are is not a divisible number. No one of us can be distilled to any more elementary piece, any smaller value. Each person is a unique and irrational number, and our component feelings and mistakes and losses can't be precisely quantified enough to pull them out.
Trying to solve for that is like thinking you can find the last digit of pi -- not only is that futile, but you've discovered pi and you're fixated on finding its decimals, like that even matters in the slightest compared to what it is. It's a waste.
So no, I don't judge your feelings. They are a few decimals in an infinite, undefinable number.
no subject
[It's an honest question, he's even avoiding any cursing when he types that out. He's aware from cultural osmosis that communication in a relationship, even one you don't define, is important, but with Harold and John's relationship already being so unusual Accelerator isn't sure if talking about it is even necessary for the two of them.
He reads through the rest, the mathematical way Harold is trying to explain this hitting him deeply. He imagines that wouldn't be the case for most people, but he isn't most people.]
It's hard to believe that. For as long as I can remember I've defined the entire goddamn world by solving mathematical formulas, including myself. [He's taking what Harold says seriously though, ruminating on it.] But I guess that's just the easy way out for someone like me, right? It's a lot harder for me to just accept those decimals don't matter.
no subject
[ Harold is good at thinking things through -- not so much at talking. His painfully precise, articulate manner of speech is partly a deliberate attempt to make up for that.
It's such a relief to see that his words hit home somehow. Harold cares so desperately about getting this right. ]
You have so much control over the world around you, I can imagine it's frustrating for there to be elements outside of that control, especially within yourself. But our minds do not work rationally, so attempting to corral your thoughts and feelings (or anyone else's) with rationality is a bit of a fool's errand.
I have two books I might suggest for you if you want more thinking on this topic that isn't me waxing eloquent over the text messaging system.