Good cop bad cop

..."I didn't think we'd have to do this over again. Thought all the problems were solved?" I say as I run my hand across the edge of the cold metal desk, walking along the distance between us.

---How I wish we hadn't...I thought I could glaze it all over, thought this could be avoided. "Keep it coy" I tell myself. "I didn't think we'd have to bother. No problems to solve" I force a smile that doesn't look forced at all, but look down at my rings all the same.

.I roll my eyes..Knieving little shit, just wants attention, "Good point. This is a lost cause. Give up, let's go." I say as I head toward the door and walk away from that seemingly empty chair, empty soul...knowing that'll draw out what we want to hear.

--"No, please, I..." I look up finally, frantically, my eyes can't help but plead.

....looking at each other, and then meeting those teary eyes, lean in could it be, a breaking point? Something to work with? Anything??

--Shake it off, shake it off. I twist the chain they can't see in my hand around my wrist tighter and tighter...everything's fine, everything's fine..."Well, I just wanted to say before you left, I'm sorry to have wasted your time. To be fair, I never asked for time." I shrugged it off, calmly.

.Any hope I had was dashed to the ground with the rise of those shoulders of that selfish bitch. "Actions have consequences, on other people as well. Pretend not to know. Play it off as well as possible, but this has to stop!"

---I shudder at the reality and truth of those words but only on the inside. Outwardly my posture remains confident, my face unmarked by the pain I can't admit. This can't continue, I don't want it to. I don't...it hurts, I hurt, I want help and I don't know how to ask, even to these eager ears. It's not a problem, it's ok. It's ok. It'll be ok. "There's nothing to stop, I don't know what's meant by that. Everything will work its self out."

...I want to be positive, I want to believe that. But again I'm left with knowing it will happen again until I get to the bottom of it. "We know well enough matters must be delt with accordingly, things can't be worked out unless there are stipulations, and answers"

."answers!" I've had it up to here with pretending to be patient. "I've got answers right here, a loony bin!" I can't take these write-offs anymore. I ball up my fists. "How about it can be someone else's problem to fix, a paid professional's problem?"

---that hurts. The words don't sting, it's more of an ache. And then it's hot, in my eyes, and it's wet on my face. I can't hold it, I can't. I can't fix it. I can't figure it out. I don't want to admit it...

....Look at each other and walk out the door. Maybe it's just not the right time.