An Answer for Natasha

Marcus put the telephone down gently. He sat back on the sofa and stared straight ahead. Natasha's mother had just called.. Natasha was ill; she had a brain tumor which may not be operable. Even so, the surgery and treatments would be long and trying. It had already affected her ability to walk. She wanted to call off their marriage.

His mind returned to the day they met when she was just 19, and he was 28. She was a slender, shy girl and in her second year at the university. He was a clinical psychotherapist in private practice. She was referred for some counseling by an old friend of his. By the end of the first session, he knew two things. She had no serious mental problem, and he could not continue to counsel her. She made an impression on him so strong that he knew it would be highly unethical to continue so he referred her to someone else. She was hurt and more than a little insulted, but there was nothing he could do, at least not about that. Much to his own amazement, he had fallen head over heels in love with this young woman. He laughed aloud, remembering his self talk of, "I don't even believe in love at first sight."

Marcus began visiting the University at lunch time, trying to 'run into'Natasha. One day, it worked, and they had lunch together. He had eyes only for her. From that day on, they were inseparable. They laughed about her reason for going to therapy. She thought she was ugly; she thought she was a mis-fit; she had never experienced sex. Marcus teased that it was a good thing he didn't realize that or he would never have let her go. One evening, after a little dinner she had proudly made at her apartment, she gave herself to him. He was overwhelmed with a sense of tenderness and love. He knew he would always want to protect her, would love her forever.

"So what now?" he said aloud. "Are you good enough, strong enough, willing to marry a woman who may be ill and dying the entire time you are married? On the other hand, can you possibly look at Natasha and say you won't be around, won't marry her?" He felt a searing heat in his body, a jolt of embarrassment, for he realized that what he wanted most was to run. He knew that he could not stand and tell her he was leaving, could not bear the look he knew would be on her face.

For a very long time, he prayed and thought and finally came to his decision. He bent at the waist and began to cry.