Every breath I take reminds me of her.
Every heart beat.
I think of her hands, so gentle, and always
warm on my skin as she examines me.
I wonder if she notices the increase of my heart as our eyes meet while she is listening.
Does she hear my intake of breath when her fingers expertly smooth the bandage over my burn?
Does she know how much I have come to crave her attentions?
I find myself thinking of small ways to injure myself, or illnesses
I might fake just to see that small smile she always wears for me.
Then of course I tell myself, she isn't why I am here.
She isn't why I have to be in the infirmary.
But, I know she is why I need to be there.
I can't imagine a day without seeing her.
My Sara, I wish that I could tell her everything.
I wish that I could somehow show her that this isn't who I am,
that I am a criminal not by nature, but by design.
I wish that I could hold her until this is all over.
Somehow make her believe that my feelings for her are
real, unlike the disease I pretend to have in order to be here.
I have lied to her by omission in so many ways.
And still, if she never knows how much
I have come to care for her...
If I never tell her I love her..
That would be the biggest lie of all...