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But maybe that isn't enough.
I was wrong before. Relationships are more than commitment and compromise. Relationships need more than duty.
But they need more than love too.
Sometimes, two people fall in love, they enjoy their time together, they part on good terms.
The end.
That doesn't erase or invalidate their love.
I can love her and let her go.
It's the only thing I can do if I really love her.
Two hours later,I climb into my sister's hybrid, rest my head against the passenger side door, and watch the mansions blur into the sandy hills.
The car hums with the miserable confessions of one of Cassie's favorite artists. Someone I've never heard of. Well. Someone Cassie has gushed about a hundred times, who most people have never heard of.
It sounds so easy for her to pour her heart out.
Is it that easy?
Is it easy for anyone?
My sister eyes me with concern, but she doesn't force me to talk. Not at first.
Not until the album finishes and another starts. A different miserable woman. With a lower voice and more jazz influence.
I don't know her name either.
Cassie waits for a quiet moment in the song. "Daphne told me what happened." She does the unthinkable. She turns the volume down. "With school." Hurt drips into her voice. "I'm going to miss her."
"Me too."
Cassie studies me for a long moment, looking for some clue on how to respond. She releases her gaze and turns to the road, studying the curves in the asphalt. "You've always had such an intense vision of your future."
"You too," I say.
She nods. "That's how I know. Because I'm the same. I saw the days with my notebook. The nights in dark venues. I imagined everything success would bring. Money, recognition, status. And it did. I won't lie. It feels good to do good work. Itfeels good to sell a lot of songs and make a lot of cash. It feels good to succeed at this thing I love."
"You've done well." I'm proud of her. For trying. For succeeding. For not listening to people who suggested she do something more practical. For being strong and tough. For not needing me anymore.
I resent it sometimes. I miss when we were kids, when Cassie always needed her older brother around to protect her. I miss the role.
I wore it well, even if Laurel and Zack rarely accepted help.
Cassie and I were always close. Then she got older. And she needed something else from me. Room to grow. Room to make her own mistakes.
She gives me a minute to collect my thoughts, then she continues. "I've been lucky," she says. "I'm grateful. Really. But I don't feel the way I expected either."
She doesn't? This is everything Cassie has ever wanted. She lives and breathes music.
She's working her dream job.
She's living her dream life.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
