Rocket Science

by Emily Mayer

Sweet baby Patrick Stewart, why was the universe trying to kill me today?

“You’re not going to meet any of the misters sitting on your couch watching old TV shows.” “Misters?” I asked through a mouthful of cake. Yeah, you know—Mister Right, Mister Right Now, Mister Great in Bed. All the misters,”

I still preferred the predictability of numbers over the inconsistency of people.

If I had survived open-heart surgery, I could survive a club opening.

Good relationships are about validating each other’s feelings and building each other up.

The truth was, I was just Lennon—a little quirky and a lot nerdy. I wanted Sebastian to like me, the me with all her strengths and all her weaknesses, not a glossed-up version. If he couldn’t like me just as I was, it would completely suck and probably break my heart a little, but I would have to find a way to be okay with it. No one was worth being half of yourself.