I see your meaning, and there’s nothing awry. Nothing inappropriate nor cissexist, nay, and nothing that misses what I am or speaks without seeing myself at its centre.
Nothing I think or could think poorly of you for, not in the least. All you say's an increase in my estimation. Trust that for me, Talik, best you can.
My meaning’s I’ve no fear in you, Talik. My meaning’s you’ve naught to fear in speaking, nor hazard of my mistaking. There’s no one sees me clearer than you’ve done, and no one seeks me keener than yourself. No one sees the world with feeling sights so near my own.
Talik. I call it nothing short of cause for pride, that you’d think on what might have been, myself beside you from the start with Sergiy. However his conception, to think he might have been ours from first breath, and that he might have had us then [ … ]
I’d have liked that.
I’d have loved him, that’s so. As I do, and as I will. With or without that name upon the shelf, hoped for just as ardent as the name it sits beside.
[ … ]
Saying I’m sorry can’t begin covering my meaning.
Your boy’s been, aye as you yourself’ve been, dealt a rank and rotten hand.
That’s nothing of your doing, Talik. It’s naught but what’s in her hands, who snared him from your holding, who keeps him from you and you from him for what, sake of fucking spite?
[ … ]
I’d ask what manner of person does that shite, but then I know the answer, as I know the sort most apt’s to do it’s the sort best versed at keeping motives quiet. Keeping themselves hid, until that trap’s been sprung.
Rancid trick of fate, that you should have been drawn with her, that she’s had it in her power and position to keep your son withheld.
Rancid, her, and cruel as well, with no business playing at his mother when there’s little care she bears him. Fucking egregious, is what it is. Behaviour unfit for any soul.
It’ll be changed for Sergiy, and he’ll have better. Naught but brightness ahead for Sergiy. Nothing saves what’s sustaining and supportive, and he’ll have happiness again, have joy the likes he always ought to’ve had, and would have had, with you.
With you, or with us both.
[ … ]
I can be a father with you still, my Talik. Names for future paths and possibilities, but that hope’ll be here in my heart.
And regardless of all else, he’ll be with you again sooner than not. All facts turn in that direction, hey? And you’ve plenty on your side and Sergiy’s. Myself, of course, and then Darius, his lawyers, guessing as well Sen and every other shithead, and we’re naught if not resourceful.
1/2
Nothing I think or could think poorly of you for, not in the least. All you say's an increase in my estimation. Trust that for me, Talik, best you can.
My meaning’s I’ve no fear in you, Talik. My meaning’s you’ve naught to fear in speaking, nor hazard of my mistaking. There’s no one sees me clearer than you’ve done, and no one seeks me keener than yourself. No one sees the world with feeling sights so near my own.
Talik. I call it nothing short of cause for pride, that you’d think on what might have been, myself beside you from the start with Sergiy. However his conception, to think he might have been ours from first breath, and that he might have had us then [ … ]
I’d have liked that.
I’d have loved him, that’s so. As I do, and as I will. With or without that name upon the shelf, hoped for just as ardent as the name it sits beside.
[ … ]
Saying I’m sorry can’t begin covering my meaning.
Your boy’s been, aye as you yourself’ve been, dealt a rank and rotten hand.
That’s nothing of your doing, Talik. It’s naught but what’s in her hands, who snared him from your holding, who keeps him from you and you from him for what, sake of fucking spite?
[ … ]
I’d ask what manner of person does that shite, but then I know the answer, as I know the sort most apt’s to do it’s the sort best versed at keeping motives quiet. Keeping themselves hid, until that trap’s been sprung.
Rancid trick of fate, that you should have been drawn with her, that she’s had it in her power and position to keep your son withheld.
Rancid, her, and cruel as well, with no business playing at his mother when there’s little care she bears him. Fucking egregious, is what it is. Behaviour unfit for any soul.
It’ll be changed for Sergiy, and he’ll have better. Naught but brightness ahead for Sergiy. Nothing saves what’s sustaining and supportive, and he’ll have happiness again, have joy the likes he always ought to’ve had, and would have had, with you.
With you, or with us both.
[ … ]
I can be a father with you still, my Talik. Names for future paths and possibilities, but that hope’ll be here in my heart.
And regardless of all else, he’ll be with you again sooner than not. All facts turn in that direction, hey? And you’ve plenty on your side and Sergiy’s. Myself, of course, and then Darius, his lawyers, guessing as well Sen and every other shithead, and we’re naught if not resourceful.
It’ll be done, Talik. It’ll be well.