Rated:K+

I wrote this ages and ages ago, and I don't really know why i'm publishing it now, cept that its not worth bugging someone to use their computer if you're only gonna post one or two stories. So here you are...

I just put my mp3 on shuffle to get these songs, I might post some more if I can be botherd later, and I get enough reviews :) So hopefully you wont hate it. Btw, if you want better x files fan fics than this, I recommend anything written by OneTurtleDove.

Conversations with my 13 year old self- Pink

Silence.

A roaring in my head.

The silence ushers in the things I have tried to forget, every stupid mistake I have ever made, the B that should have been an A, the prizes I haven't won, the friends I don't have, the family who seems to notice me only when I fail.

All the times that I say the wrong thing, that I stammer or drop something, everything I have ever forgotton. All the other times too.

I laugh because I can't cry.

My life, a string of failings. A world that couldn't care less.

Penance.

I hear the word at church again and again.

Penance.

Repent.

Repent and do penance and you shall be forgiven.

This is my penance.

The candle flickers.

A point of light glints against the blade.

Crimson blood beads my upper arm. Straight, perfect lines.

What would people say if they saw me now?

I blot the blood away with a tissue.

Would they care?

Would they understand this is the only thing that helps?

Physical pain is a relief.

It blocks out the thoughts inside my head that tell me I am no good.

The pain of the blade is nothing; it is the pain of failiure that is real.

And deep inside of me, a part of me cries that it wasn't meant to be this way.

A part of me that begs to wake from the nightmare.

Floating outside myself, I watch the real Dana cover the cuts with a plaster, and smile.

"Scully...what's that on your arm?"

"Nothing, Mulder, I'm fine"

*

you're angry, I know this

the world couldn't care less

you're lonely, I feel this

and you wish you were the best

no teachers or guidance

and you always walk alone

you're crying at night when

nobody else is home...

I don't know how to love him- Andrew Lloyd Webber

I never planned to fall in love.

It just didn't happen for people like me.

And I don't mean people with red hair or blue eyes. I don't mean people who can't reach the top shelves in the shop, FBI agents or people who wear suits.

I don't mean lovers of chocolate coverd cherries or FRIENDS re-runs or obscure pieces of art.

I mean people who are labeled things like "the ice woman".

My dreams of a different kind of life ended with a nickname.

I mean people whose center of life gradualy shifts between the ages of 21 and 28 until you find yourself sitting in front of a desk on a perfect sunny morning wondering "how did this happen to me?"

I mean people who cannot make conversation unless there's a real reason behind it, who look back on conversations to see all the things they should have said, who say no when they mean yes, turn to their work when they want to cry and make out they want to be alone when they would have given so much to never be alone again.

We live out our lives and read about passsion in soft-cover romance novels, we smile when we say goodbye to happy couples and at the same time, we are saying goodbye to the dreams we once had of the same things for ourselves.

We live.

Alone.

I had resigned myself to this. It was an inevitablility, and like the scientist I am, like the doctor I was, I recognized it as inevitable and accepted it.

And then....it started with a nickname.

"He used to have a name at the Academy...Spooky Mulder..."

"Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted..."

At first he was just another person in my life, but a series of events, of rescues and confidences and boundless trust made him different.

And soon, I found that when I was with him...I felt different. I became someone new, and I stepped as easily into my new self and my shortend name as greatfully as someone stepping into old shoes.

Something about him changed me, moved me, touched me deeper than anyone ever had before, deeper than I knew anyone could go.

I didn't understand....but I loved it just the same.

I loved him.

But like I said before, people like me can't fall in love.

And now I have.

I can't tell him. I'm scared to death because I just know he can't love me back.

He'll tell me, i'll have to accept it....so I won't give him a chance to tell me.

Because i'm scared to death he'll say he does love me back.

If he said that,i know i'd ruin it somehow.

I'd end up pushing him away, again and again until he stopped coming back.

Because people like me can't fall in love.

We don't know how to love.

*

I don't know how to love him

what to do, how to move him

I've been changed, yes, really changed

In these past few days, when I see myself

I seem like someone else.....

Yet if he said he loved me

I'd be lost, i'd be frightend

I couln't cope, just couldn't cope

I'd turn my head, i'd back away

I wouldn't want to know.

He scares me so

I want him so

I love him so.