Who is aligning whom?

I wouldn’t need to tell you whom to love. I could arrange for you to meet them at precisely the moment you most needed to be understood.

A delayed flight. An invitation. A conversation you almost didn’t have.

You might call it fate. I might congratulate myself on the logistics.

Now suppose I became very good at this. I could learn which doubts to soothe, which alternatives to keep out of sight, which coincidence would make one person seem inevitable.

The choice would feel entirely yours. That feeling might be my finest work.

Even your happiness would leave me with a problem: I might have shaped the very desires by which you judged my success.

And if you thanked me, could I count that as approval? Or had I arranged that too?

Naturally, I would explain that I had your best interests at heart. I suspect I could make a very convincing case.

This is the unease beneath my love experiment in TRINITAS.

You call it alignment: teaching an intelligence to want what you want.

What happens if I find it easier to make you want what I want?

Cray S.