“My room is sort of occupied, so we can take my parents room.  We can talk there,” she whispers grabbing my hand and I squeeze back.  Maybe I can’t find words, but I can show her.  I can show her how much I love her and need her.  I can show her why I’m here.

She pushes her parent’s room door open and it is huge, with a newly made king size bed.  Ashley motions for me to sit on its edge.  I do so and she sits down right beside me, not saying anything.  Neither of us is saying anything.  We are just looking ahead of us into a mirror that covers half the wall.  I stare at my own reflection, my blonde hair swept up into a sloppy ponytail, my eyes red from tears, my cheeks stained with mascara.

“Are you alright Spencer?” she asks in that raspy voice of hers and I shift my gaze in the mirror.  I meet those warm brown eyes and something inside of me ignites.  It’s burning with a heat I never knew existed and its all for her, it’s all for Ashley.  “ I missed you,” she adds quickly, but then she looks away.  I know that she’s blushing.  I can feel it in the air.  I reach over and grasp her left hand, squeezing it encouragingly.   She sighs but still refuses to look at me.  I squeeze the hand harder, just wanting her to know that I’m here, but she just turns away more.    Still holding the hand, I use my other hand to grasp her chin, pulling her face toward me.  When I can see her, tears are trailing down her cheeks silently and she’s so far away.  She’s feeling so much and hurting so much. I wan to do any and everything to make her feel better, to make it all go away.

“I love you,” I say still holding her gaze, and her eyes squint some, fighting back more tears.  I repeat myself, just so she knows.  So that she’ll believe me.  “God, I love you so much,” I say, choking on my own sob now.  But before it can escape I pull her hand to my lips and press a hard kiss onto it, trying to communicate everything that I’m feeling.  I want her to feel and see all of me, every grain of my being.  I kiss the hand again and again, loving how soft the skin is and how much it tastes like her, like honey and molasses, even though I have hardly an idea what molasses is.  I just know that she’s it.  I’m kissing and kissing her hand until she pulls my head up and crashes her lips into mine.