Your on the pier now, you slip off your worn converse, pulling your socks off along the way. She follows your lead, slipping off her black flip-flops. You lead her to the edge of the pier. You stand there for a moment, taking in the site of the full moon.

Moments later you lose interest in the site and sit, your legs dangling over the side of the pier. She follows your lead. You don’t say anything for a long time. You want to say something but you’re not sure what.

"We missed you at dinner."

She knows something is on your mind, but she won’t ask, knows what will happen if she does. You’ll shut yourself off completely, not tell her anything. So she makes small talk, giving you time to build your confidence.

"Aiden made pasta… well at least that’s what it was supposed to be."

You only nod; you don’t know what to say.

"The baby’s is kicking.”

This catches your interest.

"Really?"

She nods her head, happy she’s finally got your attention.

"Yeah, Chelsea let us all feel."

You regret not going to dinner now; you would have liked to feel the baby kick. You’re silent again. Your tired of this, you want to talk about her. You don’t want to walk around it anymore. Keeping it to yourself does you no good, just makes you miss out on the things you want to experience. You end your silence, you take a big step.

"I used to come here with her all the time."

Your looking into her eyes now, she’s nodding, silently urging you to go on.

"Whenever we wanted to get away we’d come here."

You don’t say her name, but she knows who you’re talking about.

"She loved coming here."

And that’s it, that’s all you can say, that’s the most you’ve said about her since it happened. You feel your throat tighten, you feel like your about to cry. You wonder why you’re like this, you curse God for making you so fucked up.

Your name is Spencer Carlin, and you can’t move on.