Months had passed since Spencer last saw you. Things didn't end up well but he was used to it, nothing ever ended up well when you were involved, even to this day he doesn't know why you left. It has been a while since the last time he set foot in his house, he stayed in hotels just to avoid the memory of you in his apartment, the flashbacks of you two being happy, changing flights and plans so you stay with him, thinking he had this right...

Sometimes he thought he saw you, glimpses of you wherever he go, a ghost in his memory that was always haunting him, always present to make him feel miserable. He wished he never met you, it was too hard for him to forget you, to let you go. He knew that while he was cleaning up your mess, there was someone else taking of your clothes, and even though he knew you don't, he wanted to know if he asked you if you still love him, and he hoped you'd lied to him.

3 a.m. and the moonlight was testing him, sitting in the balcony of his apartment waiting for dawn, waiting for something, thinking he wasn't happy since you left. His phone was burning in his hand, the need to reach out, to text you, to call. Oh, to hear your voice again... He sighed and got back inside his room, where the little things that reminded him of you were still there, untouched, waiting for you to get back. Seeing your things was all he needed to do something stupid. He hesitated, and ended up calling you, but the voicemail caught him off guard.

"Hi... It's me." He said, phone on his ear, while leaning on the frame of his balcony door. "I... I miss you. But God, {{user}}, sometimes I wish we never met. I hate that I miss you this much, I hate that I can't forget you..." He paused. His eyes were closed, holding tears of resentment. "Do you still love me?" He whispered, just a second before the time of the voicemail ended.