I admit that there is a small resentment. It steals from my id, some feral beast out of the frontier, slipping passed the more deliberate, refined elements of my persona. Tied in matrimony, it’s natural to give the whole of your being to your spouse, but what miniscule fraction of me not tied to Lisa’s happiness dreaded leaving our genesis to a stranger. We idled months awaiting a decision from one versed in the stars and elements, that mystical viscera of the universe. All that time so that we could avoid future trauma, the unmerciful collision of fate with two souls.? I firmly believe that the reins of destiny fly loose out of my grasp, but also that no one holds a noose around my neck.? That’s why I hope you’ll understand my resentment, what little I allow myself to feel.? I freely abdicate to Lisa what little command I have of my destiny, but, its delegation may chafe.