From danaK35@excite.com Mon Jul 17 18:23:01 2000 Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1999 15:09:19 +0200 From: DanaK35 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REVISED: How does it feel (1/1) by DanaK35 [The following text is in the "ISO-8859-1" character set] [Your display is set for the "US-ASCII" character set] [Some characters may be displayed incorrectly] Title: How does it feel...(1/1) Author: DanaK; DanaK35@excite.com Archiving: anywhere, as long as my name stays on it Rating: PG-13 Classification: V, A, Scully's POV Spoilers: not really Keywords: Angst Summary: Musings Disclaimer: 'The X-Files' and all 'The X-Files' related characters and situations are the intellectual property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and the FOX network. The following material is not intended to infringe on the above copyright in any way. Which means, they aren't mine, yak yak yak...you know the drill! How does it feel.... By DanaK35 How does it feel to come home to an empty apartment every night? An apartment. Not a home. How does it feel to wake up to a life every single morning and wonder if this is really your life? I am not sure. Lonely? Sad? Pathetic? Or lucky? I honestly can't tell. I have been lonely for so long that I cannot remember how it used to be. Yes, I admit it right out. I am lonely. I, Dana Katherine Scully, MD and FBI Agent, am lonely. It took me a long time and hours and hours of brooding to admit that even to myself. But like the alcoholic who stands up and shouts "I am so- and-so and I am an alcoholic" I can say "I am Special Agent Dana Scully and I am lonely". I know I am not alone it this. In this day and age so many people come home to empty apartments every night; maybe a pet is waiting for them but mostly; they are just like me. Hard- working in their careers, never enough time to nurse friendships, let alone relationships. I know that I am nothing special. But I still ask myself, why? Ten years ago, I imagined my life so differently. I was so sure of myself. I thought I could have it all. A career, a loving husband, children, a family. Reality is so much harsher. I am 35 five years old and where am I ? Sure, my career is not so bad, even if I know that it could be better. I have accomplished things. Learned things, seen things. True, I am working in a basement office with the known black sheep of the FBI, but hey, nobody's perfect. At least we solve more cases than the other Agents ^Ö at least in percentages. But as for my other plans? What a joke. I am not married, I don't even have a significant relationship ^Ö at least not a romantic one. My family ^Ö I have Mom, but Bill and I haven't spoken since my recovery and the one Christmas I spent there and I haven't seen Charlie in ages. I have lost Melissa to my quest, to our quest. I will never have children of my own. Cruel powers have taken that away from me, just like they have taken my sister. Just like they have taken my youth. Every morning I stare at myself in the mirror, looking for the signs that I am aging on the outside, just like I have done from the inside. I look for lines around my eyes, deep lines around my nose and mouth. I look for the gray hair, for a sign that it will turn from it's shiny copper to a dull orange. They are not there but I feel them. Waiting for me. Lurking in the shadows. I know that on the day I lose faith, I lose hope, I will age. I have been so much older than my years for a long time. When did it start? When Melissa died? When I lost months of my life? When I was confronted with death? My own and the one of the only child I would ever have. I am not sure, but I know that something died in me when I realized that he didn't trust me. Mulder. My partner, my friend... or is he? I have loved him from the beginning. From the first day he looked at me, his beautiful hazel eyes hidden behind glasses that only made him more attractive. How does it feel to be in love with the man you have to work with every day? Strange. Confusing. Unsettling. How does it feel to know he is in the hotel room next to yours? That he is using the shower adjacent to your own? It's trying. I have toyed with the thought of entering his motel room more than once. I wish I had had the courage to do just that. Now it seems like it is too late. I have to realize that he feels no more than friendship for me. A deep friendship, maybe even love. But not the kind between man and woman. The kind that exists between brother and sister. Or maybe not? I am confused. How does it feel to be confused? Well, to be honest confusing. I have always been in control of my life, my emotions. Mulder has changed all that. He challenges me. Not only my professional beliefs, but my personal ones, too. How does it feel to be challenged? Incredibly good. A man should always challenge a woman. Not dominate her. Not be dominated by her. Challenge her. With his intelligence, his humor, his wits. Mulder does all that and so much more. He makes me want to dance sometimes. I want to be another woman, one that dances and sings from joy. One that acts on her innermost impulses. He brings out the best in me. Sometimes when I enter our dim basement office and I see him there, one lock of dark hair falling onto his brow, which is creased in concentration, I want to go up to him and kiss him. Not the chaste kisses on forehead or temple. No, a passionate kiss, on his full, sensual mouth. I want to taste that lower lip under my own, want to feel his lean body warm against mine. God, I want him. I want him not only with my body, but my whole being. Why don't I act on it? I guess because like all of us lonely people I have gotten scared. Scared to reveal my loneliness. Scared to reveal my longing. Scared to reveal my feelings. Scared to reveal my weakness. Scared to loose him completely. Even if that means living with the doubt. Doubt about what HE really feels. Doubt about what really happened between him and this woman, who obviously means enough to him to endanger what we have. So how does it feel to be lonely? It feels hollow and painful. Sometimes when I am on my way home, passing the peaceful houses in quiet streets where the family cars are parked neatly in the driveway; I feel like crying. The tears spill from my eyes unbidden. The hot bath and scented oils and tasty Chardonnay don't help. I, Dana Scully, am lonely. I am yearning for that feeling of belonging. So someone. To Mulder. And as long as he doesn't return these feelings I am going to have to live with it. Lonely. End Feedback?? Yes, please! DanaK35@excite.com -- You will find me down by the river, getting high on my mortality - Sinéad Lohan 1999