by Annie Duncan

Created on: October 30, 2009   Last Updated: November 20, 2009

The room was a typical room you find in a doctor's office. There was the examining table which had its paper cloth draped over it. The stirrups were tucked in, waiting for their next victim. In the corner of the room next to the scale there was a little sink with a mirror above it next to a paper towel dispenser. Then to the side was a small desk with two chairs one on each side. On the desk was an offering of different magazines.

I was nervous as I sat in my seat by the little desk. I had that feeling some describe as butterflies in my stomach, not quite excitement but more of a anticipation of what the meeting would bring. As I flipped through a magazine but couldn't concentrate on the magazine; my thoughts were rehearsing what I was going to say. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror by the sink. I straightened my hair, gave myself a little smile but I knew I still looked nervous.

When he walked in he had my file in his hand. He gave me a little half smile as he opened it up and sat across from me. His face was flushed and his hands trembled just a bit. He wouldn't look at me directly, not at first, but when he spoke his voice was soft, softer than it was when I heard him talk to others. I wanted to tell him how I felt but the fear of losing him completely kept me from saying the words that wanted to come out. Having him in my life for the once a month appointments never filled my longing for him, but the thought of never seeing him was still too much to think of. One day I will be brave enough to live without him but not yet.

I constantly looked for signs of his affection for me. It is all I could do as I knew he could never speak of it. If he spoke of the want in his eyes he could lose his profession, and his standing in the community, but it was there. It was there in other ways too, there in the way he spoke to me, the way he was overly protective and went beyond to make sure I had the best of everything he could give me.

When my time with him was over I left the little room and half way down the hall looked back, he was looking back at me, he always does. Now I wait, for the next appointment and until then the unspoken words keep me going.

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