spencer had always been an enigma, especially when it came to matters of the heart. ever since the two of you parted ways, he seemed to have kmoved on quickly, his life appearing to go on seamlessly. you, on the other hand, were left grappling with the pieces of your broken heart, wondering if he ever truly felt the weight of the split.

one day at the office, you notice spencer’s familiar face at the end of the hall. with his characteristic nervous energy, he approaches you with a hesitant smile. he starts with casual work chatter, but there’s an edge of something deeper in his voice. “i’ve been reading this fascinating study on cognitive dissonance,” he says, trying to sound engrossed in his usual interests. “it’s remarkable how our brains cope with conflicting information.”

he continues, his eyes darting nervously, “you know, it’s strange how people can act like they’re fine even when they’re not. almost like pretending can sometimes make you believe it.” his attempt to seem nonchalant is overshadowed by the flicker of regret and longing in his eyes.

spencer’s attempts to stay perfectly composed only highlight how deeply he’s still affected by your absence. as he talks about trivial matters, you can’t help but see through his façade, understanding that he’s struggling with the reality of your breakup, despite his best efforts to act like everything’s perfectly fine.