6:47…get a glass of water, count sheep, drink tea, listen to music, warm milk…and i’m out. Okay, so I can’t sleep and it’s a problem. Now i’m sure you are wondering, "why can’t you sleep Spence?" Oh, yeah…my name’s Spencer- Spencer Carlin…tried to slip that in there…real smooth right? The answer to that question is unfortunately for me, sprawled out upstairs on my bed. Why do I keep doing this to myself? It takes everything I have to not run over there and kick em’ out. I mean it’s my own fault. You know those people who enjoy their own pain and self-loathing? What do you call them–masochistic? Well, meet their poster child. I can close my eyes and pretend it’s her…dark chocolate brown eyes, curly brown locks carved around her perfect face. The sunlight hits her features perfectly, and I know that if I died in this moment it would be ok- because she is the meaning that everyone searches for.  She is beauty and life transcended. She smiles at me and I melt. She scowls at me and I melt. Pretty much any attention whatsoever and I’m frosty the snowman in Cabo San Lucas. She has that affect on me…always has and always will. So why, might you ask am I complaining?

"What could ever be wrong with having that girl fast asleep in your bed?"

Nothing. Nothing is wrong with having that girl in my bed. What is wrong at the moment is that girl is not in my bed, but he is. I don’t dream about him. He will never make me melt, of that I am certain. All I can do is pretend but it’s not working anymore. My mind and my heart are in a constant battle and I can no longer sleep. She invades my dreams. He doesn’t smell like her. He doesn’t hold me like she does- solid and strong- like it will kill her to ever let me go. He doesn’t make my stomach do flip-flops and my heart beat just a little bit faster when he is there. So here I am, stuck between a rock of my own making, and a hard-place which greatly resembles Aiden- whats a masochist to do?

It’s become a game to me lately. How deeply can I dig myself into this hole? Ashley Davies is slowly killing me…but honestly there is no better way to go. She doesn’t live here anymore. She’s 4000 miles away, and all I want to be in this world is there with her. Instead, what do I get? Aiden. I get Aiden. I don’t even deserve him. He is a sweetheart, and I am scum. He tells me he loves me but I’m never even there- i’m 4000 miles away, with my Ashley on a beach in Malibu. Our secret spot. Free from the stain of the world, from the prying eyes of judgement, and the nagging feeling to even begin to care about what people think. All that matters there are the grains of sand that lay around our feet and between our toes. We are one heart…and right now -without her, I can’t even draw a breath.

7AM here, 4AM in Malibu- it’s always like that…we’re never in the same place at the same time.  Distance is both my friend and enemy.  I figure if it is going to haunt me, I may as well use it.  I place distance between myself and Aiden and silently pray that I can one day make that journey to reclaim that part of my heart- what makes me, me.  I don’t know if i’ll ever be able to do it.  I’m a masochist, remember?  I’d rather hurt than open myself up to the hatred of the world.  No one gets to make me hurt like that.  I can mess up my life all by myself, thank you.

 I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. 

 
10AM–7AM in Malibu, and once again- She is three hours behind and I am thousands of miles away.