"Dr., it's Lindsay."
Right then, all the patience in the doctor's body went away, as he sighed and dropped his head, and took the Lord's name in vain under his breath. "Alright, send her in."
"What is it this time?," he asked as Lindsay appeared anxiously in the room, hands held in front of her.
"...Bwahahahah!" Lindsay bursts into tears, dropping to the floor and bracing herself on the arm of the doctor's sofa.
"Lindsay." The doctor raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Lindsay—It's okay!…Can you say that with me? 'It's okay.' It's o-the f***ing-kay—say it."
"It's...okay," Lindsay said, as she looked on bewildered.
"It's o-the f***ing-kay." The doctor laughed in relief. "It's o-the f***ing-okay. 'Cause it is. And if you keep saying it," he said, shaking his head, "believe me..."
The doctor and Lindsay both sat there—silently, cautiously—the doctor held his lips as they began to tremble, Lindsay, on the floor still, stared aimlessly and agape, their insides wrenching, shedding a tear a piece, as they knew, no matter how many times they said it, life was not okay.
The doctor turned around in his desk chair and looked toward the ceiling as he exerted a big sigh: "I'll see you tomorrow, Lindsay."