January 8, 2002
I'm not supposed to love her, or be in love with her, or fall in love with her. I'm her handler damnit, not some random schoolboy with a crush. But apparently that piece of information hadn't made its way from my head to my heart. So, here I am, awaiting the arrival of my unrequited affection, knowing full well that we can never be together.
Oh, sure, if things were different, we might have a chance. But, it things were different than she wouldn't have been recruited by SD-6, her fiancé wouldn't have been killed and she'd never had made her way into my office and into my heart. So, chances are we probably would never have met if those events hadn't happened. And, while my dreams, my fantasies consist of us having met under different circumstances and building a future together, that too will never happen.
I wish that I could have saved her a lot of the pain, the trouble and the heartache. I too understand what it's like to not fit in, only to be "honored" by being chosen as someone who fits a profile, to join an elite organization. She was chosen by SD-6 -- I was chosen to be her handler in the CIA. I also know of the heartache it has caused her. She lost her fiancé and mother -- I lost my father, who was a CIA operative, when I was eight. So, that's why I think we may have met even if neither of us were spies. But, in my heart of hearts, I know that's just not true. Fate is cruel, and twisted that way.
And that's what keeps me up at night -- the cruelty of fate. Her mother was a KGB agent who killed CIA operatives, and my father. Yet that knowledge didn't diminish my feelings for her. Instead, knowing the full truth that she was just a cover for her mother's orders made my heart break. She had no idea that the loving mother she idolized, worshipped and mourned for was a fraud. How could she? Her mother played the role to perfection, never once betraying her real cause to her daughter. And her fiancé should never have died just because she thought she worked for the good guys, when the reverse is true.
But what really irks me is her father, who is also a double agent. He knew about her mother's duplicitous ways, and when pressed, never told her. Sure, it was classified information, but doesn't his own daughter, who was just a cover, deserve to know the truth? See, it's easy for me to justify this, as I never had to doubt the fact that my parents both loved me very, very much. I can't imagine what it was like to grow up in a house, lose your mother and have your father become so distant.
No, instead I grew up wanting to have a father who came to my little league games, and go camping with. Sure, I mean I knew my mother loved me and wanted to give me everything I was missing, but how do you replace your own dad? So, to make my mom feel better, I was the perfect son. Never skipping class, always studious, excelling in baseball and never missing curfew. Hell, I only dated the good girls in school. I mean, I didn't want her worrying about me and having to discipline me the way a father should. So, in essence, I turned myself into the son every parent wants to have. The only time I disappointed her was when I joined the CIA. She later changed her tune, when I was given a desk job.
I was the safe, good son until Sydney Bristow walked into my office, with that absurd hair, and stole my heart. I loved vicariously through her tales of deceit and high stakes gambling. I dreamed about protecting her, and carrying her away from all of this madness. I broke up with Alice because of her. And, unfortunately, I love her. And that's why I can't be mad at her for something her mother did 20 odd years ago. Even if it did cost me my father.
Maybe it's that innate goodness in me, the one who doesn't want to disappoint. That's why I didn't ask to have someone else take over as her handler. She feels familiar, if not at odds with right now, with me. And, because I can't change the past or see the future, that's all I have. I guess I have to live with that. That, and out brief, clandestine meetings.
I'm not supposed to love her, or be in love with her, or fall in love with her. I'm her handler damnit, not some random schoolboy with a crush. But apparently that piece of information hadn't made its way from my head to my heart. So, here I am, awaiting the arrival of my unrequited affection, knowing full well that we can never be together.
Oh, sure, if things were different, we might have a chance. But, it things were different than she wouldn't have been recruited by SD-6, her fiancé wouldn't have been killed and she'd never had made her way into my office and into my heart. So, chances are we probably would never have met if those events hadn't happened. And, while my dreams, my fantasies consist of us having met under different circumstances and building a future together, that too will never happen.
I wish that I could have saved her a lot of the pain, the trouble and the heartache. I too understand what it's like to not fit in, only to be "honored" by being chosen as someone who fits a profile, to join an elite organization. She was chosen by SD-6 -- I was chosen to be her handler in the CIA. I also know of the heartache it has caused her. She lost her fiancé and mother -- I lost my father, who was a CIA operative, when I was eight. So, that's why I think we may have met even if neither of us were spies. But, in my heart of hearts, I know that's just not true. Fate is cruel, and twisted that way.
And that's what keeps me up at night -- the cruelty of fate. Her mother was a KGB agent who killed CIA operatives, and my father. Yet that knowledge didn't diminish my feelings for her. Instead, knowing the full truth that she was just a cover for her mother's orders made my heart break. She had no idea that the loving mother she idolized, worshipped and mourned for was a fraud. How could she? Her mother played the role to perfection, never once betraying her real cause to her daughter. And her fiancé should never have died just because she thought she worked for the good guys, when the reverse is true.
But what really irks me is her father, who is also a double agent. He knew about her mother's duplicitous ways, and when pressed, never told her. Sure, it was classified information, but doesn't his own daughter, who was just a cover, deserve to know the truth? See, it's easy for me to justify this, as I never had to doubt the fact that my parents both loved me very, very much. I can't imagine what it was like to grow up in a house, lose your mother and have your father become so distant.
No, instead I grew up wanting to have a father who came to my little league games, and go camping with. Sure, I mean I knew my mother loved me and wanted to give me everything I was missing, but how do you replace your own dad? So, to make my mom feel better, I was the perfect son. Never skipping class, always studious, excelling in baseball and never missing curfew. Hell, I only dated the good girls in school. I mean, I didn't want her worrying about me and having to discipline me the way a father should. So, in essence, I turned myself into the son every parent wants to have. The only time I disappointed her was when I joined the CIA. She later changed her tune, when I was given a desk job.
I was the safe, good son until Sydney Bristow walked into my office, with that absurd hair, and stole my heart. I loved vicariously through her tales of deceit and high stakes gambling. I dreamed about protecting her, and carrying her away from all of this madness. I broke up with Alice because of her. And, unfortunately, I love her. And that's why I can't be mad at her for something her mother did 20 odd years ago. Even if it did cost me my father.
Maybe it's that innate goodness in me, the one who doesn't want to disappoint. That's why I didn't ask to have someone else take over as her handler. She feels familiar, if not at odds with right now, with me. And, because I can't change the past or see the future, that's all I have. I guess I have to live with that. That, and out brief, clandestine meetings.