Purely as a Doctor Of Course

 I hold his gaze as long as he'll look at me--and then he turns his head slightly to the clock, "Should I get you to group?"

What am I trying to read into his momentary stare? His emotions? The truth concerning how he feels about me. Could he ever love me? Is it even possible?

Is it even silly to think about? Doctors have their ethics and principles. Over the years, I'm sure plenty of pretty patients have landed in the University hospital psychiatric ward. He didn't throw away his career for any of them. 

I asked him if he gets bored with me. The same symptoms, year after year. Unchanging, The stifled depressive with annoying voices, threatening suicidal ideations that never come to fruition.

"No, not at all. In fact, I'm all the more intrigued," he says. Patients come into the hospital, stay a little while, and then leave, never to return. However, with me, he can see how I change and develop. Maybe, dare I say it, he has liked getting to know me over the years. Purely as a doctor, of course.