It takes something, only a miniscule thing, to realise what you truly want.

A person you never knew you loved could be standing right in front of you.

A person so special to you, that you only realise how special when you stand to lose them.

That is how I feel now.

My name is Spencer Carlin. For you to truly understand this tale, I have to take you back to when it all started.

1996, my twelfth birthday. That time in your life when you're parents can still decide who to invite to your birthday party. My mother invited the whole class. We live in a small town just outside of Ohio, so there wasn't that many people. Just short of 30.

We had just finished playing pass the parcel when the lights fade out into nothing. Suddenly, a bright light emerges from the kitchen, candles on the cake. The house erupts into chimes of 'Happy Birthday' and I can't help but smile and giggle as I get to blow out the twelve candles sitting atop my cake. Twelve, such a big number for a small set of lungs. But I manage it. How? I don't know, I don't care to be honest. I'm proud.

My wish; I wish I would have a best friend.

Although I am starting to come into my own sense of style, my own style of thinking, and an early maturity which you suppose everybody goes through when you're twelve. I still haven't had that best friend. The one where you play those stupid games, those games that are going to be ice breakers for years to come. The one that you giggle with for no apparent reason, the one that helps you grow, that teaches you more than any parent could teach you. The one who sticks by you when you throw stones at boys you don't like and get pushed over by the boys you do.

I longed for a friend like that.

My twelfth birthday, not an age of significance to most people, but definately one for me. The day I met her. Ashley Davies.

I remember it as though it was yesterday. Her black hair made into pigtails that hung each side of her chubby face. She was crying. Her mom was just about to leave her, but Ashley wouldn't let her. I could hear cries from her, 'Mommy, please. I don't know anybody'. She was new in town and happened to receive the invitation the day she started at middle school. I suppose her mom thought it would be a good idea for her to meet new people. Little did she know she'd meet the person she'd spend the next twelve years with.

I remember feeling so sympathetic towards her. So much so that I even asked my mom if she could go and tell her mom to stay. 'Spencer honey, if you want to talk to her, go ahead, I'm sure her mom would be able to go more quickly knowing Ashley had a friend to play with' she smiled at me. As dutiful as I was to my mother, I went over to her. A complete stranger.

She was holding her hand out to her mom who just looked on sadly. I don't know why, but I took her hand in mine as I sat next to her. 'Hey, don't cry' I smiled. She still looked sad when I introduced myself, 'I'm Spencer'. One long sniff and then wiping her nose on her sleeve and she finally smiled,



'Ashley'

And that's how it started. A simple introduction and we became lifelong friends. Well, so far anyway.

Ask yourself this question; Who do you aspire to be when you are twenty-four?

I am assuming that the people reading this are younger, if not, well, I'm fucked.

Anyway, amongst some of those, I'd say rich, successful, powerful, in a relationship with a hot guy/gal? Yes? No?

I have all of that, besides the guy/gal part. Hardly shocking is it, considering what I told you earlier.

I am work committed. Everything else comes second. Besides her that is. If she were to ring me because she had the sniffles, I'd cancel all my appointments and I'd go running.

I should probably explain a little about myself huh?

My name is Spencer Carlin, I live in a four bedroom loft apartment. I graduated from college a year early and I am currently working as a therapist.

I advice, listen and generally help people out with their problems, or the problems they never even knew about. Yes, the irony isn't lost on me.

I also tend to some celebrities, hence why I am considered to be successful. I'm sorry but all I did was tell Lindsay Lohan to get a clue, I didn't necessarily tell her to go out and bag herself a cute British rock chick now did I?

I can't discuss that, It's confidential.

All I am saying is, "You go girl!"

Ok, focus.

I didn't realise it was there. It's a mediocre rationality, but there are thousands upon thousands of bugs, spiders and all those disgusting creatures roaming about your house. Yet you don't notice them unless something happens that makes you see? Correct? I so am, I don't need a degree to prove myself right,

Well, my big brother Glen. Consider him the spider.

I was slightly worried when she announced that she liked my brother. I mean he used to eat mud.

I was even more worried when she started dating him, the mud eater is a womaniser.

I was shocked when he changed his ways and actually turned into a decent human being.



I consider all of these just factors of my friendship to Ashley. I was worried about her getting hurt. I thought she could do better than my brother. All those excuses you tell yourself when you are secretly in love with your best friend.

How I found out?

The day she told me she was getting married to him.

My heart broke into a thousand tiny little pieces, I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can't do anything. I should be signed off sick from work, my advice really wouldn't be up to par at the minute.

My reaction wounded her.

I'm sorry but it is very difficult to congratulate somebody when your heart has just been thrown back at you. Especially when you never even knew your heart belonged to that somebody in the first place.

"I uh... Wow. Really? Are you sure?... I uh... Ouch. Yeah, Congrats, gotta go" I am cringing just re-living it, don't worry.

Do you want to know the really terrible part?

Yes, it gets worse.

I don't have the faintest idea how to react around her now. Everything to me is now an innuendo. Not the good kind.

We had the open kind of relationship... damnit, friendship. We would hold hands walking down the street, dance sexily with each other at clubs, kiss each other (strictly no tongue) we would even tell each other we loved each other. Share the same bed, tell each other our deepest darkest secrets. Those kinds of things.

Now, I can't hold her hand without reading more into it, I can't dance sexily with her without the thought of dragging her into the toilets and having my dirty little way with her. I sure as hell cannot kiss her. Oh, and I'm really going to confess my undying love for her that I've had for god only knows how long when she is committing to my brother?

If I haven't said it before. I'm fucked.

The truly horrible part on my side; I can't imagine my life without her, I don't even want to try, so it's not like I can cut her out of my life.

Who does a person with all the answers turn to when those answers run out?