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My eyes on her lips, I smiled back.
‘No, I mean I want all the cheesy lines. They make me happy when I hear them in the movies or in books. When they really mean it, that cheesiness make me happy. A cliché is a cliché for a reason. It works on those who have a romantic heart and even on some who don’t.’
‘Now you have to give me an example. Just how much cheesiness are we talking about here?’
She considered my question seriously as she furrowed her brows and focused on her feet.
‘Ah,’ she exclaimed with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. ‘A favourite. When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.’
‘Which movie is that from? It sounds slightly familiar.’
‘When Harry Met Sally. A classic. If my dream guy said that to me… my romantic little heart would be over the moon.’
‘Ah, okay. Got it.’
She gave me an unsure look as if she were pretty sure I hadn’t gotten it.
She turned her body towards me and stared into my eyes almost as if she were challenging me. ‘I’ll give you another one. Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.’
Did she realize that her voice had dropped and had gotten softer?
‘I know that one. Casablanca,’ I guessed gruffly; it had been one of Lindsey’s favourite movies. ‘Good movie.’
‘Great movie,’ Charlie agreed, and nodding once, broke our eye contact. ‘Of course, I want the passion too. I want him to say: there you are, I found you. I’ve been looking and waiting for you for quite some time and I’m so happy that you’re here now.’
Right at the end of her enthusiastic words, one of the guys in the group bumped into her and she was forced to get closer to me. The guy apologized, but I was already annoyed with them. I reached for Charlie’s arm and pulled her closer to my side. She gave me a small smile.
‘Are you lost, Charlie?’ I asked seriously, after a moment of silence in our little corner of the night where we were standing maybe a little too close to each other.
She looked straight into my eyes, lost her smile a little, then after a few seconds blinked and looked away. I shifted in place and decided to shut the hell up.
‘Am I lost?’ she started when I was ready to let go of the conversation and change the subject altogether. ‘The honesty thing again. Okay, I’m gonna be honest. You ready?’
‘Hit me.’
‘I’m not sure. I think – I’m not sure anymore. I think I might be lost. A new guy won’t suddenly complete me, I know that. I don’t mean being lost in that sense. I don’t need a guy. I like being alone, I make myself happy. I just mean that I’d like to have someone I can lean on from time to time. Someone I can come home to and talk to, share some laughs, some conversation. Share a life. Build a life together. I think I’m a little tired of doing things on my own even if it’s a small decision like what to have for dinner. Sometimes it feels like I’m so lonely that I might start to lose my mind. And I don’t want to find someone just because I feel lonely. I just feel like I’m ready to have that special thing in my life some people are lucky to have. I want that for myself. Does that even make sense?’
Something tightened in my chest, and I remembered why Charlie had been so dangerous for me all those years ago.
‘Passion, you said,’ I prompted, instead of telling her I understood what she meant all too well and that there was nothing wrong whatsoever about what she wanted from life.
Picking up on my effort to lighten the mood, she continued as if she hadn’t given me one of the most honest answers I had heard in a long time. ‘Oh, yes. You gotta have passion. Nothing crazy necessarily, although it’s always good if that exists, but you have to have at least that electricity run through you when you touch, that…’ she glanced down at her shoes then looked away ‘… that I-can’t-wait-to-be-alone-with-you look on your face when you’re in a crowded room. I’m not going to go into too much detail here, but I don’t want to have a boring relationship where we are perfectly content about not touching each other for a long period of time. Nothing wrong with that. I had a friend who only had sex with her husband once a month. And even that only happened because the husband reminded her that it’d been a month since the last time they did it. I just don’t want that for myself, that’s all. If I wanted that I’d find a roommate. I want to love someone as if my heart will never break.’
