Para Siempre

I

11:07 a.m.
It's already been seven minutes.
They're 7 minutes late. I hate people that are late.

"Leonora Sanchez?"

Sanchez.

"No, Rivera. It's Leonora Rivera sir." "Sorry for the mistake ma'am-"

"Don't call me ma'am, it makes me sound old, sir." He looks at me with a nervous face. I can see his wrinkles start to form through the primer he used to cover them up with. He really didn't do a great job with it, as if he was in a rush to get somewhere. "Ms. Celine is in the second door on the right down this hall Ms...", he paused as if he was waiting for me to tell him what he should refer to me as.

"Leonora, you can just refer to me as Leonora."
This room was already making me nauseous with it's ridiculous smell of strawberries or bananas, I could almost never tell the difference, either way the people here aren't making the place any better. I got to the door but I hesitated to knock. I didn't want to be here. It's too early to be here. I started to walk away until I hear the door behind me open. "Oh, Ms. Leonora, is that you?"
I don't even want to turn around and look at her.

"Mhm, Leonora Rivera."

I turn around to see a black woman, wearing a black pantsuit fitted with a bold red blazer that sits pretty nice on her shoulders. Usually I find blazers a little... hideous because I've seen too many that make shoulders look bigger than they usually are. That's probably just me. She's also wearing nice red heels, except they're the shade of bloody red. Probably the name of the heels anyway, they look pretty new, like her boyfriend or fiancé just bought her an anniversary gift.

Fiancé.

No ring though, at least not on her left ring finger, guess it's just a boyfriend or girlfriend, she looks like she would swing both ways. Instead it's some gold watch on her wrist. Nice black painted nails, I'm guessing her favorite color is black or red at this point.
"Are you ready to start this session, I'm sorry for the small delay my patient before you was having a hard time leaving due to... emotional problems", she says to me interrupting my observation.

"Well, it's understandable considering the purpose of this place", I tell her. In response she just gives me a small smile.
"Well come on in and we can get started."

Great.

I enter her office and see what looks to be a very expensive black velvet fabric couch with some two grey throw pillows on it. In front of it is a small glass coffee table. And right in front of that is her black velvet seat, guessing that's for her. In the right corner is her desk, it's all so neat on it. The whole room looks neat, too neat. Behind the couch is a window that shows the city. I guess it's calming to a certain extent. She has nice plants around the room as well. Walls are painted a light beige. I just noticed the pile of files on her desk, mine being at the top. The picture they put of me isn't my best one. Still looks pretty good though. Didn't know therapy rooms were supposed to look like this. I expected grey walls, some "you can do this" or "breathe in, breathe out" posters hung up around the room with a brown couch and a rolling chair the therapist would use when listening to the patient.

"Please, feel free to take a seat Leonora."
I'm still trying to take in everything.
As I sit down on the couch I see her sit on the seat in front of me with my file in her hand. The only thing I can really hear now is my heart beat.

"Do you have water", I ask her.

"Of course dear, I'll grab you one."

She sets my file down on the coffee table. I see the description they gave her and right below the main reason I'm here. Didn't know they do that too. I'm also guessing they did that because of the circumstances that brought me here.

I can start to feel my throat hurt and my heart beat getting louder.

"Here is your water."

I quickly drank some out of the bottle. Made the noise go down a little, not too much though. I can still hear her voice over the beat, which is progress, I think.

"So what brings you to me today", she asks me.
I'm pretty sure she's acting dense on purpose, most therapists do that anyway to get their patient to talk about their issues 'willingly'.
"You have my file, we both know you already know the reason why", I think I said that a little harsh. At the moment I really don't care, I just want to go home. I'm pretty sure my dog is a better therapist than this lady, better yet my pillow. Her smile kind of drops like I just hurt her feelings.

"Well then, how about you tell me everything from the very beginning, I also have some stress toys in the corner of the room over there", she tells me.

I honestly thought it was a bucket of toys for kids, then again this room doesn't even look like a therapy for kids.

"I'm good, I just want to get this over with."
"Let's get started then Ms. Sanchez."

Sanchez.

"I'm sorry, I mean Ms. Rivera-"
"Just learn from your mistakes, right Ms. Celine?"

"Of course, my apologies again", she tells me in a sympathetic way, seemed forced to me anyway.

"It was 3 years ago when this all started..."