Brussels, June 23rd

Dear Spencer,

As I'm writing this, the train is barely departing from the station. Ready to leave behind Brussels and its learnful experiences. Ready to leave behind the first chapter of my alternation. This little trip just confirmed and reasserted any of my reasons and beliefs to do this. To take a way out for a while to find myself. It's what I need and I promise you that it's also what we need.

That doesn't make it any less harder. I miss you, Spencer. Every day that passes by feels wasted because I didn't get to share it with you. Every day I wake up feeling miserable knowing that you aren't there right with me. Especially after having you coat every moment of my dreams. There's nothing more painful than to wake up and realize that it was just that and nothing more. God, I miss you so much. And it only makes me that much more angrier with myself, because I know that I had it all and never appreciated it to way I should have. I know that I might've blown away any of my chances to attain you again. To have that intimacy we once shared.

It's a risk, this trip I'm making. A huge one and I realize that every single second that passes by. But it's one I'm willing take, because there's no other way. I don't want to hurt you any longer, Spencer. I don't want you to hurt at all. I already told you that. Countless times, even before we even we got together. But I didn't come trough with it. And that fact hurts even more than the distance that's parting us right now.

I can't imagine how you probably must feel these days and, frankly, I'm afraid to find out. I can understand that you feel betrayed, sad, angry or any other feeling that you shouldn't be feeling. Any emotion I had vowed not to evoke within you. But despite everything, I hope that you still feel loved. Because that is something that I could never stop doing. That is something that comes so naturally that it doesn't even need to be pondered about. I hope you realize that no matter what the situation is, my love and adoration for you will never decrease. On the contrary. I know that my actions and words might have told you otherwise, but they couldn't be more untruthful and unworthy. Because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment I met you. And I haven't been able to stop falling for you since the moment you shared one of your most personal and meaningful parts of your life with me. That day at the beach, will forever be engraved in heart and mind as the day I started falling hopelessly for you. And I've tried to deny it. God knows I've tried to fight it. Because it just wasn't me and I couldn't work up the courage to let my heart break once again. But your secretive smile and hypnotizing eyes made me betray any of my beliefs and my, by then already, faltering heart.

Don't forget that even if it might not seem like it, I'm there for you. Just like you're here for me right now. Through these words I'm writing, I feel you. For a moment, an instant you're right here by my side. Making me stop my movement briefly, sense you and let a hint of a broken smile paint my features. I hope you can do that to. Know that I'm there for you Spencer. Believe it. Because it's only then that you can feel me. And I can assure you it's true, because what we share is nothing short of exceptional. Whether we're in a relationship or not, whether we're just friends or complete strangers on the other side of he world. Our bond exists and will never fade. Don't let my stupidity overshadow that.

"Care to share your reading material with the rest of us, Miss Carlin?" A stern voice interrupts me and I quickly close my book, conveniently hiding the letter. I look up and feel my cheeks flush as I meet Mr. James' stern gaze. No words come out of my faltering mouth, only producing a sound that's in between a strangled sigh and a desperate whimper.

"Well? Whatever it is, it must be quite captivating for it to completely filter out my brilliant speech." He says severely, laughing condescendingly along the way. My mouth opens and closes but still no word comes out as I feel everyone's stare on me. Rapidly increasing the beat of my heart and ensuing a nervous tremor through my body.

"Fuck!" A loud and familiar voice suddenly resounds through the classroom. Effectively stopping the teacher's movement towards me. Perturbing eyes shift with the unwanted attention by its side. I briefly take the time to inhale and exhale to a normal breathing pace and try to gain the collectiveness that had left my body. But my surroundings don't stand still.

"Excuse me, Miss Davies?" Mr. James says, clearly not amused by the interruption. From the corner of my eye, I watch him wander a few rows behind me. Sauntering towards her desk.

"Uhm … I just noticed that … uh …," She takes her time to come up with an explanation for her outburst. "I just noticed that my sister ate my homework again!" She rapidly rambles. Her explanation is soon followed by loud snickers and for a moment I contemplate how I should act. If I should smile or cry at her antics. Because this moment is too familiar for me not to dwell on. Inadvertently bringing me back to more happier and simpler times.

"As much as I appreciate your concern for the missing of your homework, may I remind you that you didn't have any today." He says strictly. Mr. James isn't a lighthearted teacher that can appreciate the occasional joke here and there He expects his students to act properly and maturely at all times. No need to say that Ashley wasn't exactly his favorite student.

"I guess it must be my French homework then." Ashley retorts in a phony serious tone, only to mess him up a little more. She didn't even take French. She claimed that the class lacked that little extra thing. She had made the statement only a few moments after I had mentioned I wouldn't be taking the class.

"As for your colorful use of the English language and the pointless interruption, you will spend your Saturday afternoon in my lovely company right here." He finishes smugly. His words ending right at the ring of the bell. Everyone quickly clears their desks in attempt to leave the classroom before any assignment can be mentioned and I follow suit. Not because I fear any tasks or confrontation with the fearful teacher, but because of a certain curly haired girl that took the limelight from me.

I'm not ignorant, I know exactly what that little scene was about. I know what her purposes were and I don't think I can face her with those on my mind. It's one thing to confess my need for her on the phone, when I know the distance between us. When I'm in the safety of my own room. It's another thing to face her and confess those hurtful words in person. With the letter still on my mind, I don't know what I should say or how I should act. How I should perceive her actions. I don't know if I should be grateful or hurt. Because what does this little action mean compared to these last few months? What right does she have to come and help me like that? To be there for me when I didn't ask her to.

She has to understand that my nightly admissions don't apply on bright days like these. She should know that what was said and done last night, doesn't suddenly change everything. And that her letters, no matter how heartfelt they are, form only the beginning of a journey of which I still have my doubts about. She has to realize, that the Spencer she left isn't the same as the Spencer she's confronted with right now.

I trudge my way through the masses of the hallway, tightly clutching my English book with the hidden letter in it, to my chest. Rapidly walking towards a destination that isn't known to me. Only hoping that it's far away enough of the increasing calls behind me. The ones that cry out my name and seem to be coming closer with the second. The ones I so desperately want to escape.

My footsteps increase in speed, but they don't manage to shake off the voice that's becoming more desperate with the second.

"Spencer, please." I hear her utter so pleadingly, so brokenly that I can't help but stop my movements completely. Halting in the middle of the passing masses, feeling inadvertent bumps from the left and right. Sensing her body taking the final steps towards me. Not daring to turn around because I'm still too afraid to face her. Because I still don't trust myself in her company.

"What do you want, Ashley?" I manage to sigh out when I feel her presence right behind me. I don't know if she understands the meaning behind those words, because frankly I'm not sure how to decipher them myself. Only knowing that a huge array of implications lie behind them. She doesn't answer immediately and I can hear my own words echoing over and over in my mind, wondering if the same thing applies for her.

She steps closer and I feel fragments of her breath hitting the back of my ear. Unintentionally, or very much intentionally, clouding my mind and fulfilling the fear I had of acting somewhat unprejudiced in her presence. My eyes close and suddenly I don't feel nor hear the throngs of people around us. Suddenly all I feel is her warm breath and all I hear is the pounding of my heart. Suddenly it's just us.

"I want to be there for you." She whispers genuinely. Truthfully. Snippets of her letters, of last night's happenings, of these last few months flash before my closed eyelids. Bringing me in a frenzy of contradicting emotions. Making me come to terms again with the messy situation I'm currently residing in. The situation that's been getting more chaotic with each day that has been passing by since Clay's departure. The situation of which I now know will only get messier with her presence back in my life. And I can't seem to decide whether that's a bad thing or not.

I deeply inhale, before fluttering my eyes back open. Slowly letting unfamiliar sounds filter in again. Feeling the urgency to make this moment a little less private, a little less personal. A little less damaging for the heart.

"I don't know if I still want you to be." I whisper out hoarsely. The words causing a pain I never had anticipated. Confirming the notion of truth being hurtful at all times. Because these word don't stand for any lie. Because they're exactly what courses my mind at right this moment. Even if I know that I'm contradicting my nighttime words. Even if I know that the chances I might call her up in the middle of the night again, is greater than me not doing so.

I leisurely start walking away from her and this moment. And I wonder if she understand it. If she understands it better than I do. If she knows me better then I seem to know myself lately. But mostly, I wonder if this hurts her just as much as it does me.

I continue walking until I'm faced with the first door on my route. Until I open it and leave the hallway and its occupants behind me. Until I leave behind the one person that can help me through all of this. And as I enter the stall and slowly slide to the floor, I feel a lone trickling down my cheek. Staining the inked letters that reappeared in front of me in blur of uncontrolled movements.

Our bond exists and will never fade. Don't let my stupidity overshadow that. Don't let any fear, any doubt outshine that. Because it won't work. Because anything that might tell you otherwise, is merely temporarily and utterly deceiving. And if you don't already know that, if you don't already believe that, you will do so later one. You will discover it yourself. I will make you discover it. I will make you believe in it. I promise you that.

Cause I'm not letting you go, Spence. I'm really not.

All my love,

Ashley.