With These Hands

I do not remember how the conversation began with Falon. It was one of those that began innocently enough though. Not one of the conversations where you throw a challenge out there like a lance into the soil. So the beginning of it is a little hazy to me .. I only remember the meat of it ... the part that stood up and screamed at the Sky.

I am not always proud of who I am. I am a proud man but .. there are things about me that I am not proud of ... parts of me ... things I do. Things that get into the way of my relationships. Falon said that her foot goes into her mouth and that gets into the way of her own relationships. She snickered ... it set me off a little. I did not see anything in the conversation to snicker about. This thing sabotages my life on a regular basis. She said she was only snickering about herself. I was still sore about it.

She asked me why I thought my relationships tend to lead to disaster. Ouch. But like I said .. I may not be proud of all the things I do but I will stand up under them for they are mine to answer for. I told her they tend to lead to disaster because I hurt people. The things I say .. do ... and I am a physically violent man with a terrible temper. She said .. that is who you are. Ouch. And I replied .. it does not make it any easier.

She said at least I knew this about myself and I did not cover it up. I replied .. of course not. It would be a hard thing to hide. She smirked at me and brought up raven. I replied that raven means more to me than most slaves.

She said the closer they get to me the harder I am. I suppose that is true. She then asked me where I thought the anger and violence came from. I avoided saying my fists ... instead I asked her why she asked me that question. she replied because she wished to know ... I knew that or she would not have asked ... but I still wanted to know why she wanted to know this and she said it was a part of me and she wanted to get to know me.

My reply to that was dry. I told her I did not believe she really wanted to get to know me ... at least those parts of me. She said she actually did.

Instead of arguing with her about something she had no understanding of I instead asked her what she would do if I jumped across the fire and backhanded her for her mouth at the fires? What would her mother .. brother ... grandfather do?

She said if she deserved it .. she would get what was coming to her. I had to chuckle. I did not believe that for a moment. I asked her if she really meant to tell me her family would not honestly and rightly hate me for such a thing? Did she expect me to believe that her mother .. after all she had been through ... would put up with her own daughter being abused? She said that she was not her mother and that if she could not stand up for herself and say enough was enough that she deserved to be staked out in front of the herd. I asked her if she really thought that would work with me .. I mean .... really.

She told me then that if she rightfully got herself hit over something she said or did that her family would not interfere .. any more than she would in their own relationships. I laughed. I laughed hard. Did she expect me to believe for an instant that if she sported a broken lip and a black eye that her father and brother would not step in? At least confront me and ask what the hell? What if she did not deserve it? What then? I am no hero .. I have hit a woman and they had done nothing more to deserve it than get close to me. So what then?

She shrugged. She told me that she was not sure .. they might or might not. Sometimes they seemed to care about some things and not others .. to get bent out of shape for one thing and seem oblivious to others.

Now I understood that. Without being in someone's head it is not always easy to figure out why they do what they do and some things can seem incongruent .. without rhyme or reason.

But there were so many questions I had .. so many things I wanted to say. Things that got interrupted by the reality of being Tuchuk in the middle of a great move North. Though I suppose most of what I had to say would have been expounding further on things all ready said .. questions I had to ask would be better asked of those that had the answers. I felt a great frustration building up in me. This continued frustration with trying to understand the dynamics of families and how they worked and functioned with each other. I did not want to believe the words she said to me .. I could not ... and yet who better to speak for a family than one who had a family?

Am I wrong for hating myself? Am I in a minority for the very loathing of this part of me? My mind only finds solace in the knowledge that Falon has no idea what she speaks of when it comes to my temper or my violence. She has never tasted it or been hurt by it. It is easy to say that it is a thing understandable and livable when it has not destroyed your life. It is easy to say that one will not interfere in another's relationship when it is not a woman you have cared for and protected all your life. It is easy to laugh and joke about something if it has not shadowed your existence from conception. I want to understand the things she says .. of her family. But there is something that wages a great war against it ... that refuses to believe that this is how it works .. that this is how it is supposed to work.

I am left still a man torn in two by his very pride and arrogance in the things that he has built and the work that he has done .. torn in how that correlates to the hatred and loathing of the things his hands have torn asunder and beaten to death.