Disclaimer: On a scale of one to ten, I wish they were mine at about 3,000.
A/N: We always wonder about the behind the scenes of Mulder and Scully's lives. Thinking about that, coupled with my friend misquoting and saying "I want that on paper!" instead of "I want that in writing!" I came up with this little idea. The chapters are going to be short and letters only. I tried to kind of explain it without explaining it. Eh. Enjoy.
Mulder,
In your last letter you asked why we do this never spoken of aloud letter writing. Why we can't just talk like two normal people. I don't have an answer for this. I've thought about it a lot, and the only things I can come up with are quite psychological in nature, which (no offense) makes me kind of uncomfortable, because there is no way to prove it. I hate ambiguity.
Maybe we write these letters because by some kind of silent, mutual agreement (which is our modus operandi anyway) we have decided to keep these written words on paper, never to be spoken aloud, because it's safer that way. Anything we say can stay on paper, and we never have to discuss it. There are no consequences, even though these words are more permanent than the spoken ones.
But maybe that's it. Maybe there are so many lies spoken around us, that having something written down makes it pure, less able to be tainted by environment. It's protecting our words I suppose.
Or maybe we just enjoy resurrecting the dead art of letter writing.
I suppose that it doesn't really matter though, does it? I don't know if you were looking for an answer to that question, or if you had run out of things to say, or if it was just a passing comment. Either way, there's my answer.
And because I can't think of a segue…
Sometimes you make me really mad, Mulder. I don't mean to upset you by saying that, and maybe I shouldn't have started that way. Great. Now I'm trying to backtrack. Anyway, what I mean to illustrate when I say you make me mad sometimes is that I care what you think, and I want your support and approval. So when you don't fully listen to me, or don't try to understand, it bothers me more than it would if it was someone else. Does that even make sense? Here I am trying to edit again. Against the unspoken rules.
Unwritten.
Whatever.
But you know what else? More often than not, you make me happy. I can have a day like I had today, one that leaves me with the blahs or something even worse. I can't sleep, I don't want to eat, and I just feel blah. Then I come home and find a message from you on my answering machine. You're updating me on paperwork, but it makes me feel better. And the best part is that you don't even know you're doing it. That's just how you are and who you are and I'm glad that you resist change in that department.
I think that's all I have to say for now. Goodnight.
Scully