“Say it.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Say it. I’m doing this for you, not for me.”

“I feel like a loser. Can’t you just leave me alone, Liv?”

“You have a problem. I’m fixing that problem, Cass. I’m helping you. Let me.”

“I… I’m Cassiopeia. And I’m in love with the idea of love.”

I know it sounds stupid, okay? You don’t have to tell me. I guess she was right… my friend, I mean. I do have a love for love. Every love quote, every sappy love song, every kiss in the rain… I’m there. I love it. I love the romantics. I love how perfect it is. I love the little butterflies in my stomach while I watch and hope that my life is like that with the next guy I think I’m in love with.

Come on, though. Last time seemed different. He was really the one. You can’t blame me. He was the Noah Calhoun I had been searching for since I was brought into this romantics- filled world 20 years ago. I don’t know why I’m like this. Maybe having my heart broken so many times in high school made me afraid that love doesn’t exist, at least not for me.

“Admit it. You’re afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Never being in love.”

“What do you want me to say to that? It doesn’t exactly feel good to know it’s true.”

“Explain why you’re afraid.”
“Fine. I am terrified that I will never find love. Not like, I'll never get married and have kids or whatever but I am so afraid of missing out on being 20, lying in a bare apartment, intertwined with someone who would pull the moon from the stars to see my smile. Feeling their breath on my skin, it would warm me to my core to know that in those breaths were drops of love and devotion. And I would absorb them. And carry them. And wait to give them back, wait for the day when that person lay awake in the middle of the night, in that bare apartment, looking at my sleepy face and thinking that there is no where better to be but there. I am scared to live a life that doesn't give me crazy trips to nowhere at 2 AM because we're young and spontaneous, restless nights full of useless chatter weaving our souls together, and days spent hand in hand doing all the things people put on their bucket lists because love makes you want to be there for every moment. Love is asking an old woman to describe the love of her life and watching her eyes light up as she remembers every detail and we listen because we know exactly what she’s feeling, or it’s a cold night, lying in a bare apartment, and I am awake, looking at him feeling like I will never be afraid again. But right now I’m afraid. And I don’t know what to do.”
“That was beautiful. I’m gonna go grab my computer. I’ll be right back.”
I want a life of happiness. I want a life of perfection. I couldn’t tell that to my friends though, they’d laugh in my face. I want my life to be like a movie with a fairytale ending and ride away into the sunset with my Prince Charming. I know it isn’t realistic, but it’s what I want. I lied to Abby. I’m not terrified of not finding love. I’m terrified of being hurt in the search for love. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.
“So what do you want to do now that you poured your heart out? Movie?”
“Steven did it.”
“What?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just daydreaming.”
We were unstoppable together. Everyone envied our relationship. We were together through all of junior and most of senior year. We were going to be voted cutest couple in the yearbook, prom king and queen. The sunset to my sky. We were taking the world by storm. Okay, maybe a smaller scale. We were taking Greendale High by storm. And then he tried to force me to… I told him I wasn’t ready… I don’t want to get into it. I hate him, I don’t want to ever hear his stern but gentle voice, or stare into those dark, caramel eyes and feel his warm body against mine or… No. I hate him. Hate. Hate.
He made me lose hope. It’s like… I’m scared of never falling in love, but at the same time I don’t even know if I want to anymore. I used to be so in love with the idea of love that I wanted nothing more than a relationship and now it’s the complete opposite. I’m too afraid to trust people now. The idea of being committed to someone and giving them all I have is scary, terrifying even. Especially when the last person you gave yourself to just turned around and threw it in your face. Threw away all the trust, all the blood, sweat and tears you put in to make that relationship what it was. Why would I give someone that chance again? I mean… sure a relationship would be cool. It would be nice to have someone to care about and talk to for hours upon hours, someone who you can cuddle with when you’re cold and eat Poptarts while you watch the Notebook together but I’m not willing to take that chance of being hurt. Not again.

“Cass? Cassie!”

“What? What else could you possibly want from me? Haven’t you humiliated me enough? God, I just can’t stand you sometimes. I’m sorry. That came out wrong. Can’t I be lonely and depressed in peace? Please? I think I deserve at least that much.”

“No… don’t be sorry. I probably deserved it. I shouldn’t have made you open up like that if you weren’t ready, and I knew you weren’t. You’re still hung up on… him. Even after I set you up with all of those other trainwrecks. And I understand that. I get it. I’m a horrible friend. You have the right to be angry and say what you’re feeling when you want to say it, and not have someone poke and prod when you aren’t ready. Besides, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to order pizza.”

“Hey. Don’t say that. You aren’t a bad friend. You only wanted what’s best for me. Sure, your way of going about that was a little… interesting. But I know you had good intentions. And I love you for that. Yeah, they were some pretty horrible guys. But no one said love’s not for taking chances. ‘Save your heart for someone who leaves you breathless,’ right? That’s how the song goes. ‘All along, you said you knew this was wrong, but still worth fighting for.’ And that’s what love is for me. It’s wrong, it’s f*ed up, it doesn’t make any sense and I’m totally okay with that. Because when I find love, I may be bruised and broken from the battle, but it’ll sure as hell be worth it ‘cause I’ll have won the war. And yeah. Extra cheese.”