365 Days

Well, here it is.

It has been one whole year since on this day in 2012 I wrapped my arms so tight around you that they hurt. It has been 365 days of pain, ecstasy, heartbreak, excitement and elation beyond words.  I love you more than I have loved anything, anyone.

On Sunday, April 15th, 2012, you wrote me this:

“Every day I think of you, I don’t know what else to do. You say my name so wonderfully, kiss my lips so magically, and love me so perfectly. You make my days seem so bright, bring so much joy into my life. I love you so hopelessly, want you so desperately.Your arms, your kiss, your skin, your love; I need it to survive. I’d do anything for you at all, and all day every day I wait for your call. You’re what I look forward to, what I dream of, because with you, I’m hopelessly in love. Nothing can change the way the way I feel, and nothing can break a love so real. We’ve been through so much and have only come out stronger. We’ll last forever my boo, and then even longer. You’re the girl of my dreams and I hope I’m the boy of yours. You make me feel safe, handsome, confident, strong, capable, special, and loved. I can never repay you for the things you’ve given me. All I have is love and I hope its enough, because you deserve the best babe, and I want you to be happy. Goodnight. :* “

You’re too sweet to me. You’re like my perfect little hallmark card. The ones that make you feel bad because they’re so perfect that you can’t think of anything to write in them, so you send it with the recipient’s name and repeat the last line of the pre-written message.  Yeah.

Anyway,

It sucks that we have to be so far away on a day we should spend wrapped around each other. I would give my left arm just to be able to hug you with my right.

On this day, one year ago, I was laying in bed and shaking. I was giddy and emotionally exhausted. Not more than a few hours ago you were mine. Granted for only 4 hours, but you were mine in that airport. Yes, we spent our first hours together in the San Francisco International Airport.

I had spent my winter break in Vegas with my sick grandmother (movie-material, I know) and had booked my return ticket that oh-so-conveniently had a 4-hour layover within a stone’s throw from you.

The night before: 

We had a huge fight and I told you not to come to the airport. I told you I hated you. I never wanted to meet you. I’m glad you didn’t listen.

The day:

It had arrived. Luckily, we made up the night before in a sea of tears and “I’m sorry’s.” I woke up positively bouncing. This was it, my life was going to change forever. After this day, I was never going to be the same (of course, I’m speaking from hindsight. I had no idea what you would do to my heart).

10:30 am:

I boarded the plane and said goodbye to you for now. See you soon.

11:38 am:

I told our story to the unsuspecting lady next to me on the plane. I never got to thank her, but she calmed my nerves more than she will ever know.

11:58 am:

We touched the ground. I was in the same state and less than a mile from you. I think I stopped breathing then, and still have not recovered to this day. I texted you and said “I’m here!” to which you replied “Yay!” (You really have to learn to express more emotions.) I called you and said “See you soon” and said goodbye to you for the last time as strangers.

(I wandered around for a bit in the airport on the phone with you trying to find where you were)

The moment: 

“Are you in a black jacket?” you said, and my heart absolutely stopped beating.

“Yeah.”

I turned around and there you were, walking towards me. I recognized you at first sight.

My first thought: “Is that him? Oh god, he’s a lot taller than me.” Yes. My first though about the love of my life was how he can rest his chin on my head. I’m such a hopeless romantic.

We went outside and while walking out the door I said “My first steps in San Francis-” and then I tripped. Hot mess right here.

Sitting on a bench, you gave me your favorite book and I gave you a necklace. Half of a heart, because anywhere you go, you’ll always have my heart. I’m wearing the other half while I write this, and always.

We went to the top of the parking garage where I promptly tried very hard to avoid your kiss attempts. I finally succumbed after an hour and we kissed for the first time overlooking the San Francisco Bay. My favorite place in the world.

After that, we couldn’t stop. Not even now. It’s like our favorite hobby. I misses your kisses.

I couldn’t have asked for a better first date. It’s unique, its special, its weird, and its all ours.

This is all ours, baby. One year and counting. I love you more than a cat loves milk, more than a bee loves honey, more than Kim Kardashian loves attention. I love you more than a fat kid loves cake, or a zombie loves brains.

“Hi beeb”

The first words you spoke to me in real-life. The best words I’ve ever heard.

Happy 365 days. Here’s to 18,262 more.

You tease…

July 3rd, 2010

I was sitting on the back porch, slowly rocking back and forth in that creaky old chair, listening to the cricket chirp and enjoying the warm air breezing by my skin.

“I think I love you” you suddenly blurted.

“w-what?” I mumbled, afraid I had heard wrong. I had been trying so hard to get you to like me.

“As a friend, sort of thing.” you continued, blissfully unaware of what you had now done to my respiratory system.

You didn’t want a relationship, especially one of long-distance, since you had just gotten out of one.  I, on the other hand, would have leaped backward 14 times and cut off my own hand just to have your heart. I had fallen fast for you, and there was no turning back now.

Fast forward to October, 2011. I’m on my dorm room couch, clutching the phone excitedly as I booked a plane ticket that oh-so-conveniently had a layover just within your reach. A four-hour one.  I was going to meet you!

We talked excitedly about our first meeting.  What would we say? What would we do? Do we kiss?

I’ll write about that in a couple of weeks, when our 1 year bestows itself upon us. Yet, we’ll be spending it apart, like most days. Will we ever have a normal relationship? Will I ever get to have a drawer of things at your place? Some days, it’s hard to think about the future with you. I want to advance so badly, but distance holds us back. I know we will survive, but it’s surviving that’s always the toughest.

I know we’ll make it because I love you. That’s it. Three words, three syllables, eight letters. Words that mean so little in today’s society; thrown in a rap song here and there, used almost as a restraint. Words that we’ve said 50,000 times and more.

We’ll make it because I cannot imagine a single day without your greeting being the first of the day. Because my heart skips two beats when I come down the escalator at the airport and catch a glimpse of that boyish smile you give me each time. Because we can fight one day, and the next stay up all night talking. Because sometimes you can’t manage to say a single sentence, but you write beautiful things that make me cry. Because I’ll rant about my horrible day, traffic and any other event stressing my mind, and you will still be on the phone, right there, listening. Because we have been through things no ordinary couple has been through, for three long years.

And I thought I loved you then.

The Beginning

June 12th, 2010

The day I met you.

“I’ve seen your pictures, you’re not my type.” you boldly told me, a few weeks later.

“Are you calling me ugly?” was how I responded, followed by tears.

Unbeknownst to us, we had launched something bigger than either of us could have imagined.

Two and a half years later, I sit here and write this, listening to you mumble in your sleep. You’ve dozed off, as one of us usually does, and I hear you breathing into the phone. A gust of wind blasting into my ear.  At times like these, I know I love you. You’re innocent, vulnerable, and I wish more than anything that I could kiss your forehead and pull the blanket up to your chin. That’s the difficult part.  We’re so close, but yet we’re always so far away, too far to reach out and touch. Phones, instant messaging and video chatting can only go so far.

As of today, January 4th, 2013, I have been with you 4 times, since first meeting you a year ago on January 21st, 2012. We have spent a total of two weeks combined together, and three holidays. There is an average 107 days between each of our visits. Combined, we’ve spent 55 hours traveling to see each other, and currently, we live 1.5 hours apart, by plane.

It’s needless to say how much you mean to me. Even though we go through dry spells (the phone gets hard to bear), have our shares of discontent, and even an occasional fight (why won’t you talk more?!), I can’t live without you. You are my oxygen, my heart, my  other half. This isn’t some kind of puppy love either. I can’t inhale without you. Believe me, I’m not the type of ohmygodlovemeorI’lldie either.

So, this is my journal for you.

To share our trials and tribulations, to give advice, to rant and rave to someone else. To pour my heart into pages of something that one day I {maybe} will let you read.  If you behave.

Love always and all ways,

Me

P.S. I’m glad I’m now referred to as “the most beautiful girl in the world.” We’ve come a long way.