Stone Circle Please do not push me away

A peculiar conclusion settled over him then, as Valette continued talking, and offered him what he assumed to be encouragement or reassurance: that she was wrong. She said that he wouldn't always lose them, but Merrit knew one day, he would lose everyone, even Arlette, even Keen. He blinked, and steadied his eyes on his mother. Even her. Even if his family stayed faithful to the end, they would, one day, sleep in the grave where neither word nor warmth could touch them, and he would have to say goodbye, and turn away, and leave them behind under the cover of the earth, just as they, too, would one day leave him.

And if heart had grieved so fiercely over the loss of his father whom he had barely known, how much more would he suffer when he lost his sisters and his mother? Perhaps he'd already risked too much. He loved his family - but could he even afford this? Should he? If he couldn't imagine living without them - if the world would be nothing without their presence - then how was this wise, if one day, he would be alone, and he would need a light beyond them to continue through?

He was quiet, and his frown held firm, for he knew what he felt, and he knew that his reason sung higher and more convincing than his emotions ever would. His mother said his fear should not drive him to sever himself from others, but he was not afraid - for how was this fear? In the end, vulnerability brought pain - and if that was love, he didn't want it. 

The raven offered his mother a short nod, and his voice rang soft and low. "I understand," but understanding did not equal accepting. He reached out, but kept his heart from piquing with the usual rush of affection as his nose met her cheek. "Thank you, mother." Let everyone else throw their hearts about as they would. Merrit would not let himself go there again, and Valette had helped him see every reason why.