From: SusieXF@webtv.net (Susan Littlejohn)
Date: Wed, 17 Nov 1999 22:53:24 -0500 (EST)
Subject: If Truth Be Told (1/1)
Source: direct

Title:  If Truth Be Told (1/1)
Author  Susan Littlejohn
SusieXF@webtv.net
Rating:  G
Category:  MPOV
Spoilers:  Amor Fati and The Sixth Extinction.
Summary:  Mulder musing as bits and pieces filter through the
cheesecloth of memory.
Disclaimer:  C. Carter, 1013, FOX, no infringement on well-defined
ownership rights intended.
Archive:  That's fine.


If Truth Be Told


It's still here with me.  The hollow tinniness.  Hear it whispering to
me whenever I shut my eyes, and force myself to push it back.  Push
back...push.  Push.  The blessed pushing.  His telling me what he
thought I wanted to hear all along, all these twisted years of
half-truths and innuendo.  Maybe he believed I'd be grateful, but the
mockery I made of his perversest divulgence screamed otherwise.  User!
Always will be, but he'll never use me again.  Never.  Dead or alive,
and I hope to all that is just, he's as lifeless as the many he made
corpses, she won't ever let him.  She's the touchstone.  Proven worth,
oh, so worthy of the best I've never given her.

They saved me.  Both of them did.  Like feminine Marines.  Saved me from
his webs of delusion and obscene usury.  Usury of an eidetic, but
englutted mind, and tortured soul.  Entwined around the so-called
martyr's death he'd instrumented for me.  Liar!  Until the end he
thought he had me, playing the savior, swirling in coiling smoke. To
drag me down into his haze of impenetrable clarity.  A clarity he
thought bestowed, but never embraced.  Can I really know?  Must it be
demanded I should?  Though saddled with a mind bereft of zesty agility,
it knows the difference between the heaven and hell ol' Smoky juggled me
between.  Please let this be temporary.  These days my mind struggles.
It wrestles with the totality...

Of their saving me.  Both of them.  The tenebrific woman of my surreal
shadows; the illuinant redeemer, of my bedrock.  I believe.  If true,
although I do not doubt my...I've already told you what She is, for even
half a second.  Ever.  That the paradox is truly dead...yes, I'll miss
her.  Of course I will.  Despite knowing what I've got; always had, but
was too myopic to appreciate with the depth it should have been.  I
loved the dark one once.  Did a holdover of love, long ago shared, save
me?  The paradox that is no more.  Surely snubbed out, no doubt, by
Krycek's pitiless hand, at black-lunged Shiva's behest.  The anguish of
mulling, never knowing in the ultimate sense?  But I must know...

I exhale a cleansing breath.  The same breath surrendered when I knew
she'd come to save me.  Save me from the beckoning abyss.  The void of
emasculation; defeat.  My wondrous touchstone.  The touchstone meant to
be touched, over and over again.  Her self-professed not knowing what to
believe, I don't believe for one minute, though she told me so again
today.  Hers is weathered now, but not obfuscated.  She'll never discard
it as useless.  Not my touchstone.

She remains belief in oblation, for as long as she is.  Carrying the
standard of all that is vital and true.  Melded, oh, the rich comfort of
the very idea...we shall continue the telling to whomever has courage
and vision enough to listen.

If truth be told...

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Thanks one and all for your valuable time.
susanlittlejohn@netscape.net
SusieXF@webtv.com