Difference Between Real Love and the Love on TV

Masey and Pete don't see each other for five days. Pete doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can't stop thinking about the situation at hand. The boys try their best to cheer him up, but nothing works. "Come on, Pete," Joe tells him one day. "You gotta do something. You can't just sit on your ass and mope and wait for her to come to you, because she's not gonna." He pauses to fill his bong. "You just gotta face what you did, and what you want and hope for the best. Now if you don't mind I'm gonna go smoke," he says, drifting out of Patrick's basement to go outside. Pete almost considers joining him. For someone so stoned, Joe always seemed to have his head on straight.

"Patrick what do I do?" Pete sulks to his best friend. Patrick is sitting beside him on the couch, and Pete wraps his arms around him. "Why are girls confusing?"

Patrick chuckles. "I think you're the one being confusing, Pete. You initiated the sex, she didn't." Great, another person against him.

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me out here, Trick!" He wails.

"I am Pete. You need to talk to her. Like tonight." Patrick says. Pete pulls out his cell phone and begins a new text. It's around eight and he knows Masey should be home, she wasn't at work at the coffee shop on Friday nights, so he couldn't imagine she was doing anything else.

And sure enough, Masey is curled up in her bed staring out the window, when her phone begins to vibrate on her nightstand. She sees a text from Pete.

'Where r u?'

She sighs and replies, 'home'

'Come downstairs' is all she gets next. Masey scurries out of bed and downstairs, pulling a sweatshirt over her head on the way. Her auburn hair is disheveled, but she doesn't really care. She pulls open the front door, and there is Pete, standing, biting his nails and scuffing his shoe on her porch.

"Hey," her voice barely chokes out. She kind of wants to cry and punch him and never talk to him again.

"Hi," he sighs. "Can I come in?" It looks like he hasn't slept in at least two days, and he has makeup smudged all under his eyes. His hair is a mess. He's a mess.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Masey steps aside, allowing for Pete to pass through. Conveniently, her mother is out of town this Friday night. After Masey shuts the door Pete grabs her and hugs her to him. She's startled at first and tries to fight it, but gives in. Pete's biting his lip, trying not to cry.

"I, uh. I," Pete starts, but Masey interrupts him.

"Let's go upstairs," she suggests, leaving his grasp to ascend the stairs. Once in the safety of her bedroom, she sits on her desk, Pete on her bed. "So."

"So." Pete's chewing on his lip, and Masey is looking down at her hands. She doesn't want to be the one to initiate the much needed conversation because Pete is the one that ended up on her doorstep. She was trying to block it all out as much as possible. "I, uh. I'm sorry."

"For what? Fucking me?" Masey spits out.

"N-no. I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while."

"Yeah."

"And, I, uh." Masey has never seen Pete this nervous. She looks up at him and he's staring at his lap, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I'm just really sorry. I feel like I screwed you over." He looks up at her now, and he looks so sad. "I didn't mean to. I think you're b-beautiful, Masey." Masey gets off of her desk and crosses the room to sit beside Pete on her bed. "And I'd hate myself if I couldn't tell you that again."

Pete kisses Masey then, and it's so small and tender and broken she wants to cry. She and Pete kiss f for a while, slow and cautious, because they don't really know what else to do. Words can't describe what they're feeling. Masey has butterflies and she realizes she's crying. She pulls away from Pete reluctantly and rubs her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just being stupid," she admits, laying back on her bed. Pete lays beside her and they stare up at the ceiling.

They lay there for a really long time. Almost forty minutes pass until Pete speaks, "When I was little I didn't think anybody could ever love me. I didn't think I could love anyone. The only woman I love is my mom. I didn't think I could really see anything so great in another human being. But then there was you." They sit quiet again. The silence is overbearing but neither knows what to say. "I couldn't imagine loving someone when I can't even love myself. I can hardly even see myself living another year, so how could I invest my time in someone else when I can't even think about my future. What's the point in that?" He swallows hard. "It's fucked up, isn't it? I can say it's a huge waste of time for me to be invested in anyone else. But here I am. With you." Pete's hand finds Masey's, and their fingers intertwine.

"It really is fucked up, isn't it? I feel like I'm just going to self-destruct. I can't even convince myself to live for the band, or my family, or myself; I can only convince myself to live for you." Pete closes his eyes now, he scrunches them up really tight. "I mean, I never thought I could be here. I never thought I could care about someone so deeply in my entire life. But you're here, you're real, and you don't hate me. I don't know what I did to deserve a gift like this, because I'm the furthest away from receiving a blessing. I already got my spot reserved in hell."

Masey's not sure she's ever heard Pete talk so candidly, but she doesn't stop him. "I don't know. I just never thought... I just." Pete's getting choked up.

"What, Pete?" Masey turns to face him now.

"I can't possibly be anything you want," Pete sighs sadly. He knows he's just a disappointment. Masey wraps her arm around his torso and pulls him into her.

"But you are," she smiles against his neck. "Pete Wentz, you are all I could ever want."