Disclaimer: I don't own ER. This is just a bit of a drabble that came to me last week, its got more than its fair share of my own reality in it which may be an explanation of why I'm not writing much at the moment, but I will get back to Guilt and Circumstances of Change soon. Hope you enjoy and if you do I'd love some reviews.

I feel alive. The world seems brighter than it did yesterday as I stare out across the charcoal smudged sky. My senses are heightened, I can smell the chemicals rising from the scrubs I'm wearing, helicopter blades above pulsing in their intensity, everything more vivid than I remember. My heart is racing, my stomach fluttering; I can feel the butterflies taking flight inside once more. The sense of anticipation is getting to me. How can I make it through the next few hours until I see him again?

Its only been four days, him on the night shift, me on the day, like it was when we were first roommates but not so normal now. Now I'm used to seeing him everyday, sharing meals, exchanging words, the last three days have been painful, words passed via post it notes alone, though even they made those wings flap again. I miss seeing his face, when I close my eyes I see him in front of me, even with them open I can make out his outline, just standing in the shadows, see him as he was last time I saw him, dressed in those jeans and that t-shirt, those shades covering his eyes. How can something this wrong, feel so right?

I find myself ignoring the metal band wrapped snug around the ring finger of my left hand. The metal that should be a visual reminder of the commitment I made to another, not to the man I see in my mind. A man who I haven't seen in a month and a half, a man who hasn't crossed my mind in the last four days, my senses have been so full of the other. I think the butterflies have always been there since the day I met him, they bade their time, waiting and then at some point, I'm not sure when, they broke free of their cocoons and stared to beat their tiny wings inside me, only increasing in size and strength until now when they threaten to overwhelm me, making me feel like I've run a marathon when all I've been doing is standing on the spot, when just a thought of him makes my mouth break out into a grin, until every other word I utter is his name, my voice lighter and brighter than ever before, that's how I know that the butterflies have taken root.

There's a man out there I promised to spend the rest of my life with, a man who slid that cold metal band onto my finger and who kissed me like the end of the world was nigh. He doesn't give me them, sitting on a couch with someone else makes their wing span grow so that I can hardly breathe, but his lips touch mine and my stomach is still. A few words and a smile and my legs are like jelly, arms wrapped tight around me and I'm as stable as a mountain. As much as I've tried to lock them in a box, I've imagined so much more than just sitting on a couch with him, its impossible not to, if I let it I can see us, together, our arms and legs entwined, desire rising off us like steam from a kettle, our lips so tightly locked that not even oxygen can pass between. I've tried slamming that box shut, battening it down, but still those thoughts escape and I wonder if it's possible to be guilty of infidelity even when it's only in your mind. I think it is. I've tried to drown the butterflies, I've tried to suffocate them too, but nothing stops them, it's like my need for the air I breathe, a reaction that is impossible to consciously stop. How can I go on like this? How can I imagine giving up the butterflies? How can I dream of ending my marriage?

Damn those butterflies I think as I stare out over the charcoal smudged city, torn between them and the man who is my stability, torn between right and wrong, torn between the two men who hold my heart. I'm still no closer to an answer to any of those questions.