The Introverted M.D.
Sometimes I just sit and listen. Not to what's going on around me, but what's going on inside of me. I get this feeling like I'm falling and I can't catch my breath. Then I see you, not in front of me, but inside of me; inside of my head. You are laughing and touching my hands. You've caught me and I'm no longer falling. I can finally breath again.
Now you are in front of me, laughing and touching my hands. You're so beautiful. I can't remember what it's like to not know you. I don't want to remember. I can feel the fine hairs of your arm on my fingertips as I give you a reassuring touch. I tell you there is no one in the world more beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and funny as you are and any man who can't see that is an idiot. You smile and squeeze my hand to thank me. Why not a hug? Why not a kiss? Am I that unimportant to you? I look at the floor and attempt to smile as genuinely as possible. You don't buy it. You put a finger under my chin and tilt my head up.
"Janet, what's wrong?"
I can feel the tears begin to drown my eyes, but I'm not sure why it's happening. You wipe them from my cheeks with your perfect thumbs. I can see tears forming in your own eyes now. You pull me into a tight hug. I feel like you never want to let me go, but I know it's just a delusion. I want so badly to tell you how I dream about us intertwined; sharing our bodies and souls, hearts and minds. You will never understand. You don't know what it's like to love you. To see you and touch you, but only in passing. I can never linger.
As I cry, soaking your shoulder in salty despair, you press your lips to my temple and lay your head against mine. Your fingers softly caress my cheek. I move slightly against your hand. You trail those fingers to my lips and outline the curve of the bottom. My eyes are closed. You touch me now like you think I'm beautiful. I don't want this to end, but I know when you realize how you're making me feel your hand will fall and your arms will no longer be around me. I would die if I lost you, Sam. I can't let that happen. I pull away from your warmth and wipe my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know what's gotten in to me." I sniffle and drain the glass of wine I've been nursing for 2 hours. You reach your soft hand up again to caress my cheek. I take it into my own, smoothing circles over your knuckles with my thumb. I look into your eyes. They are the deepest blue and full of fear. What are you afraid of, Samantha? You lean forward and I can feel the air in the room stand still. You brush your lips against mine. They are moist and smooth, just as I had imagined. You pull back slowly and begin to speak.
"I thought I'd never catch my breath."
THE END