Have you ever done something that was so right and so wrong at he same time? That's what it's like with Max. I've known him for a long time...I've loved him for a long time. I know I've been to hell and back for him. But I can't just turn off my feelings for him. It's like that damn drippy faucet in 'Roach Manor'. I try and try to turn it off, I get down on my hands and knees, crawl under the sink and use some ridiculously heavy tools just to stop the damn drip. I do everything to stop it, and I just can't. No matter what, the dripping is always there.
It wasn't so bad when I was here and he was in Philly. Sure, I loved him, but I didn't have to see him every day. I didn't have to look him in the eye and tell him I didn't love him. I tried that once. After I detoxed him...oh, maybe the third time...I tried to break it off. I couldn't keep it up, or so I thought. But every day, seeing him...I was just a med student. I don't know why it mattered so much, but it did. I was young, I thought it would be ok. He never used his position as my resident inappropriately. But I wanted to make sure he was OK. I always had to make sure he was OK.
Now he's back, and...I don't know what happened last night. I took him to my apartment. He had nowhere else to go. And I didn't mean for anything to happen, especially this soon. But all of a sudden we were kissing, then...I woke up with him. It's been a long time since that happened. I'd forgotten how it felt. It's a good happy feeling, when I wake up with his arms around me. And then there's the guilt, the shame. It's like I'm only doing this because he wants me to, like I only went back to him because he needed me to, and it's true. Damn what I think, Damn what I want. I go back over and over because he needs me to
The look on John's face...he was hurt when I told him. And I didn't even tell him everything. This is John! I mean, John and I have been through *so* much together in the past year. Only one year, and still, we've seen so much together. He's drilled holes in my bones so I could donate marrow, to save someone who was dying. We worked side by side to save Chase, first at his apartment, then in the ER. We questioned our ethics together when we almost...he almost...let a man die We cried, we laughed. I bailed him out of jail. He kissed me, or I kissed him. I can't quite remember. But the whole time I was letting myself enjoy it, forget about Max. Until he offically asked me about where we stood. I could really fall for John. Sometimes I look at him and I wonder why I go back to Max when I have someone like John here. And I can honestly say I don't know. Something keeps me coming back. I'd like to say it's love, but I don't think it is. A part of me loves him, a part from a long time ago that I thought I could disreguard. But that part's still with me, trying to get me away from John and back to the man I've loved and hated for so long. Yes, a part of me loves him, but a part of me hates him more than I've ever hated anyone or anything. He needs me, but I don't need him. Not exactly.
The doctor in me can't let him kill himself, can't let him sink into this addiction. I don't think I can get past that, no matter how many John Truman Carters I meet who want to whisk me away. They'll sweep me off my feet, I'll hold my breath when they walk by, like a high school kid. I'll stare at them while we sit together, or whenever I'm near the m. But Max is going to keep bringing out the doctor in me. And I can't neglect a patient. It's not how he sees himself, but it's how I have to see it. It's how I make it through the day. I'm just being a doctor. there's nothing wrong with that. As long as I see it like that, I can tell myself that there's nothing wrong with that.