Lives Between Walls

A little touch too much; a little hug too far; a little kiss too many. Compassion drew me in, until I was unable to turn back – so I ended up in a relationship by accident. Now compassion makes me afraid to leave and break his heart. The same compassion that brought me in, is the same that keeps me shackled to him.

When I met him, he was in pain. As a doctor I wanted to take his pain away – because I am so committed to my work – so passionate about making things better for people. I would do so even at my own expense. Today’s appointment was to tell him that I wanted to end this. I was going to tell him that I was sorry that I had led him on. That I didn’t love him, and it would not be fair to continue to mislead him. I had only agreed to it because I had felt sorry for him, and I had wanted to make him feel better. I was going to finally tell him that it would be better if he dealt with another doctor from now on. But I was afraid that I had become his medicine. If I removed myself from him now, he would be too broken – he would not be able to go on. He would despair of life itself – and I didn’t want that.

I remember the first day that he had walked into my office. From the moment he set foot in the room, I knew this man needed help. Unkempt hair, his untucked shirt and his wrinkled pants spoke volumes ever before he opened his mouth. I later got to find out that he had just lost his job due to an audit company discovering a stash of cocaine in his drawer. His wife had subsequently filed for divorce, taking legal custody of his two sons. Personally I don’t blame her. Normally I would say he deserved it but the compassion in me longed to hear his side of the story. “I was framed,” he started sobbing in his chair as I was taking his blood pressure. “It’s okay Hammond,” I said as I gently stroked his shoulder, his sobs causing his broad shoulders to heave intermittently. Looking back on this moment, I wish I hadn’t done what I did afterwards. I regret it. I came close to him and put my arms around him – I felt his arms slowly making their way around my body too – warm. This was a breach of protocol, and I shouldn’t have done this – but at that point I felt I was being human. We stayed in that position till my uniform was wet with his tears. My heart went out for this stranger, seeing him in his vulnerability. I knew men didn’t usually show weakness, so for him to cry in my presence, must have meant that this pain gnawed at his soul. I would have given anything at that moment to take his pain away – or make him feel better. ‘Naive Betty,’ as my friends would call me, because that was just me – always wanting to make the world a better place for everyone. He slowly lifted his head up to me – I instinctively leaned in and our lips touched.

A little touch too much; a little hug too far; a little kiss too many. Compassion drew me in, until I was unable to turn back – and ended up a relationship by accident. Now compassion makes me afraid to leave and break his heart. The same compassion that brought me in, is the same that keeps me shackled to him.

Since that moment, he has booked subsequent sessions with me, every week. He calls me, nearly every day – telling me that he misses me, and how much his life is so much better since he met me. And I entertained it at first. He would come for a checkup for his blood pressure. I would allow him to kiss and touch me. I was spurred on by the false belief that I was doing what I was doing, only to help him get over his loss – making the pain go away. Now I realise that I should have put my foot down earlier. I should have let him know that I didn’t have feelings for him, and that he was just another patient. But now I was afraid to hurt him. I am ashamed to say, I had even let it get too far. “No Hammond!” I gasped, trying to catch my breath as I quickly buttoned up my shirt, “We can’t do this. I think it’s best you leave now.” Shame rapidly covered his face as he got up from the patient’s bed, “I’m sorry Betty, forgive me. I love you.” Oh no. He had again uttered those three detestable words; meaning that I would have to lie once more, “I love you too Hammond.” I hated lying to him. I had to let him off gently. But I wanted to do it at the right time and in the right way. I didn’t want him to fall apart, when I take my love away from him.

A little touch too much; a little hug too far; a little kiss too many. Compassion drew me in, until I was unable to turn back – and ended up in a relationship by accident. Now compassion makes me afraid to leave and break his heart. The same compassion that brought me in, is the same that keeps me shackled to him.

I am pregnant now. I had failed to come clean with him about the reality of our relationship. It did eventually get too far. Today I ask myself, maybe I did actually love him, and it’s just that I don’t know what it supposed to feel like? Maybe that compassion and pity I felt for him, was actually love. I don’t know. My mind is filled with doubt and uncertainty at the moment. Hammond is a great partner, he loves me and is there for me. Right now he has gone to the shop to buy me the watermelons I had been craving. This is what every girl deserves, however I don’t feel that I’m the girl for this story. I am 7 months along at this moment. I can’t leave him now, he would fall apart. Plus I need him to help me raise this girl I’m carrying. I told Hammond that we should name her ‘Compassion.’ So I will always remember what my weakness was. I know what I will do, I will wait till Compassion has grown up a bit, then I will tell Hammond the truth. By then he will be strong enough and he will not fall apart, when I take my love away from him. That is what I will do.