And even if I were to seek out canonmates, I wouldn’t want them to get… well… ideas. I mean, let’s say that, against the astronomical odds, I met a person kin with my son who turned out to be the one from my lifetime. The shit disturbing, hydrophobic daredevil who loved nothing more than shaving years off of my already fleeting previous life. It would be one hell of an experience, but that life’s done and over now, and should probably stay over. I mean, how weird would that be?
And let’s say I made the mistake of messaging him and he wasn’t the one from my specific timeline? But what if, in all his isolation, he wanted to be? What kind of position would that put me in?
Isolating as it is now, the more I think about the potential consequences of actually reaching out to canonmates, the more uneasy I feel. Age differences and the confusion surrounding definitions only add to it.
Which brings me full circle to the what-do-I-do-now problem I’ve been mulling over lately–this identity is a new frontier for me, but the conventional practice of finding canonmates has kind of gone out the window. Ho hum.
Years ago a bond said something that really helped me with this: “Even if the people you find weren’t with you before, they’re here with you now, so they’re kind of yours anyway.” *waves hand vaguely* Implying we meet the people we meet for a reason, and relationships with them can still be fulfilling in their own unique ways. I have friends who I share sources with, but not specific canons, and I’d still value them immensely just for who they are even if I were to meet canonmates later of the same fictotypes. It’s like having an extended family, in my mind. I think about doubles this way too.
But this might not be much comfort… and I’ve never had kids, so I know I don’t have the same perspective on that emotional roller coaster.
