I think about the things I've never said; the thing I've never told and I wonder why I am feeling this way. This strange feeling creeps up on me like a shadow and follows me everywhere I go. My stomach turns when I must go past that office, yet I do it anyway. When I stop, I can't help myself. I knock and when I knock, he answers with his sarcastic response about Deans of Medicine and breasts. I don't understand why I put myself through this; this torture.
I walk in, as posed and confident as I can, yet my stomach churns with just the sight of him. I don't know what to say, but he speaks first, remarking that I look good in whatever I'm wearing. His tone is sarcastic, but some days I wish it weren't. I reply to him, as nastily and as forcefully as he has spoken to me, but the words just don't sound as good as when they're in my head.
He asks me why I'm here and the first thing that pops into my head is clinic duty. I tell him off, almost yell at him to go, but it is his stubbornness that draws me to him. Watching carefully, I stare as he grabs is cane and walks up to me. He intimidates me, but I refuse to let that matter.
He stands facing me, too close in my opinion, yet far enough away that I know he isn't implying what I am. I can feel his breath slightly; smell it too. Hospital food; pizza and a slice of that dry chocolate cake to be exact. He says something to me, another sarcastic statement, and turns and leaves. I know he's not going to the clinic, but I can't move.
Minutes fly by as I stand in the same place that he left me. I can't understand why he makes me feel like this and so I curse him off as much as I can. His name rings in my head like a throbbing headache I don't want to go away. Realizing that I must be off to find him places a small fantasy in my brain.
As I walk down the hallway, I remind myself that he loves Stacey. She's the only one for him and I can't change that. When I call out his name, softly, yet stern enough and audible enough that he hears, my legs wobble. I can no longer even speak his name without giving myself chills.
I find him, after a long half hour of running around the hospital. He is in the clinic surprisingly; Room 3. He stares at me for a moment, and turns his head back to his Game Boy. As I try to open my mouth to yell at him, to tell him to get back to clinic duty, I cannot. I speak his name, as my voice shakes and shows a vulnerability I've hidden for ages. I don't want to tell him and so I don't.
"Cuddy," his sarcastically annoyed voice rings through my ears as sweet as a fresh apple pie. I can't breathe properly and so I do nothing but stand there. He tells me he's not doing Clinic Duty and that the low cut blouse I'm wearing adds something. I don't know what because I'm not listening.
Shaking my head, I realize that this has gone on long enough. I can't let him win. I can't show any sort or weakness, for If I do, he will respect my authority less than he already done. Unsure of what else I can do, I stalk out trying to appear fed up, but I cannot.
It is at times like these, when I ask myself, why. Why these feelings, the ones I've kept hidden from him for over six years. Why are they popping out now? Who has placed this curse upon me so that I cannot control myself anymore. These things I've never said; these feeling I've never told.