In Those Two Weeks

Prologue

Ticking. Clicking. Every second. Constant. Her chapped lips moving, and yet all I hear is the ticking. Continuous, and growing louder. I'm able to time my blinking to the ticks, and as she continues on about my estrangement from him, I time the ticks to my blinking. Why subject myself to replaying the catastrophe that our time together was, when I can count my on going ticks.

"Ms. Conrad, your input would be appreciated." Why can't she let me concentrate on my ticks? "My help won't be beneficial, unless your thoughts are shared."

I revert my eyes from her chapped lips, to the source of my depression placed on my ring finger. It's glistens as the sun pour in and hit it, emitting rays that shoot in all directions. I sigh, as it reminds me of my current psychological state.

"Try taking it off, Lennon." She glides from her rickety chair to the space next to me. Sighing, Vivian takes my left hand in hers. "Don't lets this define you, Lennon. He isn't here, so your guilt can be let out."

I've tried before, but it's all I have left of him, and taking it off would officially end our companionship. Two weeks. Two weeks to destroy an "unbreakable" love, and make us strangers to each other.

I turn, and look into her crinkled eyes. Her attempt to smile was weak but subtle enough. "Why do you care so much? He's probably paying a years salary for just one hour. If I were you I'd just sit back and let me sulk."

As I speak her lips turn down, and her wrinkles become more evident on the forehead. I can tell that her hesitation to speak is due to the inability to connect with me. Finally, realization crosses her face, and as she stands to walk across the room I knew exactly what was going through her head. As she grabbed the door handle I stood from the couch.

"No!" She turned swiftly, and released her grip on the door handle. She was going to summon him. No, he can't see me this vulnerable.

"Lennon, your silence can only hurt you. You must conquer the pain and guilt you are going through. He is my last option-"

I begin to giggle, and pull on the ends of my knotted hair. Fine. She wants progress, then that's what I'll give her.

"Fine. I'll tell you everything." Her lips turned up more easily and glided back to her rickety chair.

"Let's start with how you feel about the loss." Vivian takes her pen and notebook in hand, and releases a relaxed sigh.

"No, I'll start from the very beginning where the root of my anxiety began." If she wants to understand my state of mind, then I'll give her what He wants.