I love you. And it really seems like what actually happened was bad enough without borrowing hypothetical trouble.

Yeah. 

Yeah they can just extra cling to each other for a while this seems the correct response.

I really think we should call one of my more collected brothers and ask them to sort the house thing for us, we're going to get too distracted.

Yeah, okay.

He does, no matter how he jokes about it, know all their numbers.

"Hey, Moryo?"

"Yeah?"

"As I'm sure you heard, Idaia and I are together and looking for a house. Can you build and or buy us a pretty one in -" he gives the city - "a really nice one, where I'll find it tolerable to live indefinitely, in case we want to do that?"

"...yeah, okay."

"Thanks! Let me know when you've got it."

I feel like I should be telling you something to say for me but I honestly can't think what.

"Bye!"

It's okay.

I don't regret spending as much time absorbed in you as I did in Valinor but I do regret not doing more things that weren't that. Like getting closer to the rest of your family.

They've changed a lot anyway.

That's part of why I regret not getting to know who they were better when I had the chance.

I really don't think it's a good idea to try to hold onto the past.

I think there's value to be had in cherishing the good times we had and mourning what's been lost. I wouldn't want to stop missing my parents.

Different than mourning people who are still right here.

Okay, fair.

If you want to meet Moryo be my guest. Just don't spend too much time wishing you could instead be meeting the old one.

No, that's not the problem, the problem is awkwardly refraining from bringing up his dead wife and kids. Especially since, you know. Dead wife, here, no longer being dead.

He copes okay. 

Yeah, but still.

It wasn't like us, if that helps at all. They didn't think they had forever, they only decided in retrospect that they'd totally been married....

I'm glad we waited. I'm glad we didn't have kids in Valinor.