The BLTS Archive- Circumstances
by Susan P. (suzotchka67@yahoo.com)

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Archive: OK for ASC/EM(L), BLTS, and Odo's PADD, others please ask.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.  Won't sell this.  Don't sue.

Notes: Written in a white heat, online, and in the space of about two
and a half hours. Not beta'd (but you all have the benefits of a
second proof-read). *Not* Compulsory Reunion Fanfic. *Not* happy.
*Not* resolved.  No spoilers of note.  No specific timeline in mind,
but would fit in well with the Dominion Occupation/War arc (or
"Crossfire" or "Heart of Stone" or "Children of Time"...).  I've no
sequel planned.  You want a happy ending, feel free to write it...

Feedback: Is certainly welcome!

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No control.

I hate 'losing' control.  But, at this moment, I wish I could lose it
utterly.  Surrender to the forces trying to tear me apart--from within
and without--and melt away into nothingness. To collapse into myself. 
Or spread myself thin--stretching farther and farther until my
substance evaporates into the very air. Sleep.  Death.  Something as
yet unnameable and unquantifiable.  Whatever such an end might be, or
might be called, surely there would be *some* measure of peace in it. 
Better that than to tear myself apart figuratively on an almost daily
basis.  Over you.

Not just over you, of course.  There are...circumstances...that stand
between us.  Not the least of which is your seeming blindness, my
painful reluctance and uncertainty.

This lover or that.  Distance--real and imagined.  The business of our
daily lives. Schedules.  Obligations. Work.  Recreation.  All have
come between us at some time or other.

Some of these things have even brought us together. But not enough. 
Not close enough.

I *need* more.  And yet, perhaps, I fear it.  If I loosed my
tongue--let it speak the words of my perpetual, silent litany--how
would the landscape of my life change before me?  Would there be new
shapes, colors, textures to discover?  Could I navigate through such
previously-unexplored terrain? Or would it all simply crash down
around me?

If you suddenly opened your eyes and *saw* me.  Saw through to the
love and the need and the pain and the fear.  Would you open yourself
to me?  Could you?  If you did, what would I see?  Could I accept such
a gift, much as I believe I would want it?  Would I have the strength
to accept from you that which I most want from you?

Sometimes, I am almost sorry that I love you.  Because it hurts. 
Because it strips away the facade of my need.  My need makes me
vulnerable.  Weak.  I would like to believe I am neither.  To have it
laid bare to my own eyes is shameful enough.  To have it exposed to
another, even--especially--you...  The thought is almost too much to
bear.

Let the most trivial of everyday details come between us, and I am
reduced to a quivering, ineffectual mass of thought and emotion.  A
virtual child shaking its fist at the heavens, crying, "It's not
fair!"

Internally, that is.  On the surface, there is my mask. I created it,
and I *fight* to retain it.  I wear it well.  Most of the time.  I
struggle to keep it up in your presence. Sometimes, it is as much a
relief to leave you as it is a joy to see and spend time with you. 
Once I walk away, however, I am free to let the mask slip.  Just a
little.  Not so much that anyone else would notice.  Sometimes I
wonder if even you could detect it.

Sometimes I am almost sorry that I love you.  That I need you. 
Almost.  Even in my most desperate, painful moments, I cannot quite
wish my feelings away.  They are--as you are--too much a part of me
for me to denounce, or renounce, them so easily.  Even if I could
separate out the parts of me that love you and tuck that part away in
some corner, I know I could not survive without it.  So much of who I
am, who I have become, is tied up with you.  With knowing, and loving
you.  And I loved you from the first, although I didn't know it then.
My very existence is inextricably bound to yours.  Whether or not you
know it.  Whether or not I care to admit it openly.  It is you that
ties me to this place.  To this life. Without you there would be no
spark, no color.  My life would be all shadow, no substance. As would
I.

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The End