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[uncertainrelation]

You know, it's...

[It's his turn to hesitate now, fumbling for his thoughts in a way that he usually doesn't, and it strikes him that it's going back and forth between them at this point, this inclination to find themselves at a loss and have to grasp around blindly for a way to proceed. It's so antithetical to science and so standard for emotions, he thinks idly, and not without a touch of wry humor. Perhaps they ought to just stick with being scientists; it's not as though they've ever had difficulties with that.

But he ducks his chin, kissing into her hair more for his own comfort than to impart it onto her, and casts around for his vocabulary once again.]

We've never been normal, have we? You haven't and I haven't. But I think...you've taken to being extraordinary better than I have, sometimes. You're content to be extraordinary, and I sometimes find myself still longing for the normal.

[...But that's just it, he thinks, and realizes abruptly that this is one thought he shouldn't keep to just his thoughts, and reopens his mouth instead.]

But — no. No, it's that I'm allowed to long for normal, and you're not. Because a "normal" woman is...less than...a normal man. And that's why —

[He hesitates again.]

That...is why, isn't it...?

[originallutece]

. . . yes.

[Not entirely. But certainly she'd found more joy and freedom in being extraordinary than she ever had being ordinary. She tips her head back again, catching his eye.]

. . . normal for you was a vastly different experience than what normal was to me. And mine . . . I was not miserable, not for all of it. Not after you came into my life. But . . .

Normal here is a vastly different thing than it was in Columbia. I'm still learning about normalcy here. God, I'm still shocked every time one of my students gives me respect without thinking. And . . . I don't mind being ordinary here, not all the time. I miss our other state of being, but I don't loathe being human, not the way I would have in Columbia.