10: It's Over

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It's over, and I feel so alone. This is a sadness I've never known. How did I let, the sweetest of dreams, slip away, and I'm afraid the hurt is here to stay. - Cheetah Girls

     Iyesha and I sat in the lobby of the therapists office

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Iyesha and I sat in the lobby of the therapists office. The sounds of printer paper coming out, and keyboard clatter loaded into my eardrums. Iyesha sat beside me clutching my hand tightly. Her head rested on my shoulder with her eyes closed. I stared around the room looking at the light areas of chipped paint on the walls. The bowl of dollar store suckers sat on the table in front of me filled to the brim.

I watched as couples entered and exited from the back rooms. Some looked to be leaving with joy spread in their hearts. Some walked out looking even further apart than they were together. The looks on their faces etched in my brain. The look of unhappiness plastered over their faces as they try for their last chance of reconciliation.

Would that be us?

"Carter and Trishell Holmes" The receptionist came into the lobby saying. A couple stood up that were sitting on opposite sides of the room. He looked less than pleased. Her face held a different tone. She looked at him with pleading eyes as if this was the final shot they had to makeup for whatever brought them here.

"Iyesha sit up right quick. I need to go pee." She groaned as she sat upright in her own chair. I placed her jacket in her lap, walking over to receptionist's desk. "Excuse me where is your restroom?" I asked as she stopped typing to direct me.

"Come through the door first door on your left."

"Is the door unlocked?"

"Yes. Just walk through." She answered, still focused on her desktop.

I turn off to the side entering through the door. The hallways was filled with closed door as I looked into the room with one open door. I saw the receptionist sitting there continuing to type. I kept walking seeing the sign for the bathroom door. I opened the door turning on the light. The smell of perfume and dirty diapers filled the air. I could tell this was the only bathroom for visitors in the building which was unisex.

I shut the door behind me exhaling a stalled breath. I wiped my hands down my face walking forward to the mirror. I looked at my reflection with discontent. My thoughts were clouded with everything that led us here. It's been over two weeks since the incident with Tristian and I occurred. I haven't spoken to nor seen him. I have sent several messages trying to be cool, but he wasn't hearing it.

I retrieve my phone from my pocket leaning slightly on the wall. I unlock it, going straight to his number. I pressed the call button placing the phone to my ear. This time the call rung once before the voicemail picked up. I was convinced that Tristian was doing everything in his power to avoid me. After the tone I decided to leave yet another message.

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