There was once a point in time where I started wishing on 11:11 simply because everyone else was doing it, and I found it annoying that none of my wishes came true. That is, until the night I wished for you to be mine. Not only did that wish come true just hours later, but every single 11:11 wish I’ve made since then has also come true.
I was fifteen, naive, and broken. I didn’t want a relationship, despite the hopeless romantic inside me that was completely torn up. I had just gotten out of an abusive relationship, and one of the worst and most scarring experiences of my life. It was spring break, and I was grounded. I guess my best friend didn’t really care that I didn’t want a relationship.
“I met this guy James on myyearbook.” She told me. “He’s awesome! You should talk to him! You guys would get along really well.”
I told her I’d talk to him, but I never planned to. I wasn’t ready. At least, I didn’t think I was. She went upstate a few days later, but she left James my aim so he could talk to me while she was gone (although she never even told him she was leaving, so he was kind of forced into talking to me). I remember how our first conversation went, even.
“Hi Katie.”
“Hi James.”
“O.o How do you know my name?”
It was stupid things like that that made us click on the very first night we talked. Already I was falling for him, when all we shared was two hours of text on a screen. All my friends knew I liked him before I did, and a few days later, we officially told each other that this was more than just a friendship. My feelings for him were developing fast, and vice versa. It didn’t take long for us to know so much as to be each other’s best friend, and I didn’t even care that he lived upstate while I lived on Long Island. I had a feeling we could handle it. On the 12th of April, I wished on 11:11 “please be mine, I don’t want to keep waiting.” A few hours later, on April 13th, 2009, we mutually decided that we should be together. And so we were official.
It’s funny. All my friends told me “What if he’s really a fat, 40 year old man disguising himself as a 17 year old so he can rape you?” and all his friends said the same thing about me!
I gave him a candle for my sweet sixteen even though he couldn’t make it. We didn’t end up seeing each other for the first time until July, 3 months into our relationship. We only saw each other for two hours, but during those two hours, I could have sworn that I had just been born. I never felt more alive than I did for those few hours we spent the first time we met. Seeing him leave wasn’t as hurtful as you’d expect. I didn’t cry, but I figured that’s because it was so early in our relationship and we didn’t spend even a full day together. However, if I had known what we were about to go through, I would have been bawling by the time he had to leave.
The only reason we saw each other was because I went upstate with my best friend and stayed at her house (her grandpa owns a vacation house up there), and it was close to James. But I didn’t go up there for the rest of the summer, and my parents were very against me staying at his house, and wouldn’t let him stay at mine. Because of this, we had no way to see each other. We kept trying to make plans, but they always fell through. We broke up a few times, and we fought a lot, but we got through it. We got through six months of being separated. My mom finally came around and let me go up there by train and stay at his house for a weekend. I can’t tell you any other time I’ve felt that relieved than when I saw him in January 2010, after 6 months of being terrified of forgetting anything about him.
After that, we saw each other more often. And yes, I do cry after every time I have to leave him. The only time I didn’t was the first time. He still wasn’t allowed to stay at my house, so I just went up there every two-three months and stayed for a weekend or a week, or in the summer, two weeks. I even went up as a surprise visit in October for his birthday. He was able to visit me for the first time a few weeks ago, because my best friend’s Dad was nice enough to let him stay at her house.
So that’s us. We now see each other once every two months, and are celebrating our two year anniversary this April. The next time I’ll see him is in February to celebrate Valentine’s Day. There are so many things left out in this, and so many little things I wish I could fit in somewhere, but I could really write a novel about us and still have more to say.
When you’re in a long distance relationship, it’s the little things that matter the most, and sometimes they aren’t as romantic and perfect as you imagine them to be, but that’s what makes them so memorable and amazing. I’m talking to him now as I’m writing this, as I am always talking to him. He just told me that there are two parts in Hot Tub Time Machine where you see boobs, but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I love you, all of you.