Thanks to the COM352 students for contributing a bunch of new pages! I'll be moving these pages into the main area of the wiki soon.

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[edit] Death Perpetuates Life

11/17/07

I have known countless people involved with long-distance relationships. They basically all failed, and because of this (and the simple insanity of such an idea in the first place) I am the first to denounce highly separated intimacy.

Then one day my girlfriend went to college. Chelsea and I had been together for quite a long time, more than a year. The funny thing was that we never conducted the typical western mating ritual (“Will you go out with me?”). The closest we ever came to being an official couple happened one day when we decided to stop being ambiguous. People would see us holding hands in school, and ask if we were together. Our reply was always “Um…not really…”

The way people in America find mates really irks me sometimes. Or, perhaps I should say the way people don’t do it. What they don’t do is become friends. Many kids, including myself back in the day, start dating girls and boys that they really don’t know. This is quite a disadvantage – it’s much easier to foresee a relationship when one has already befriended the person. Unfortunately, people are afraid to wreck their standing friendships by way of dating.

None of my friendships have been ruined after going out with each other. Although I don’t often talk to some of my ex-girlfriends, I could if I wanted to and everything would be cool. Good thing, too…one of my past loves is currently dating my best friend!

Anyway, Chelsea and I had the closest relationship I have ever experienced. I spent countless days on Plum Island, enjoying the summer beach or hiding from the winter. Many times I slept at her house, even when she had work the next day. I would walk her to work and then go back to her house to wait for her. It was like a second home. While waiting, I was apt to walk their dog (it seemed I was the only one who enjoyed this chore) or chat with her sister and mother. Letting someone know I was coming over was unnecessary. Whether Chelsea was there or not, I was quite welcome.

Now, I’m sure you think this girl had gone out of state to study, or even out to western Massachusetts which certainly qualifies as long distance. Sorry for the hype, but she actually attended Salem State college, a mere half hour from my home town of Newburyport. The commuter rail to Boston had a stop in Salem, so every Tuesday and Thursday (when Chelsea only had early classes) I would hop on the train to go see her. Just like back home, we didn’t do much of anything besides sex and drugs (and of course rock and roll). The college was a step down from Plum Island, though. On the island we had a familiar community of people, and an ocean. Salem State offered asphalt and unfamiliar faces. But we had each other, right?

Although I tried my best to visit twice a week, there came a certain few weeks when I just didn’t see her at all. I cannot recall any specific reason for this. Chelsea probably had said she was very busy, or perhaps I couldn’t make the trip one week. I began longing for her more and more. After a while, I had established an iconic day when I would finally get to see her again. It became an ambiguous holiday in my head.

What happened in the second half of our temporary separation is perhaps the most confusing experience I’ve had in a relationship. The whole thing lasted about a month. Toward the third and fourth weeks without seeing Chelsea, I wondered what was really going on. Were our schedules coincidentally conflicting? That seemed out of the ordinary. Neither of us were the type of kid who was often busy. I started to believe she didn’t want to see me, but for what reason? It was ludicrous to believe she was bored or fed up or angry with me. I knew her too well to fall into that trap. I knew that, in a sense, it didn’t totally involve me. I wasn’t excluded from the equation, but she was the independent variable. Something was going on with her that I did not affect. So, of course, I called her up.

Let me establish that I rarely call my significant others just to see if something is wrong. I’ve learned as a general rule that if a girl has a problem, she’ll come out with it when necessary without pestering. Not surprisingly, I didn’t get any results from asking this time. Again, Chelsea said that she was just really busy, but she was coming home in two weeks and had something we needed to talk about. Suddenly the iconic day of relief was drawing near, but it had taken on a different color.

I had been tossing and turning in my head the possible reasons for Chelsea’s behavior during work. Every Saturday I went to Lynn to work at my uncle’s dry-cleaner. Saturday was not a busy day, however. They didn’t do any actual dry cleaning on Saturdays, only laundry and miscellaneous tasks, so most of the job was taking customers and sitting around. I was idling hard as usual, when I came upon a strange…epiphany. I don’t know if epiphany is the right word because I decided I wanted Chelsea to break up with me.

Can you see why I was confused? Where the hell did this idea come from, anyway? I had been craving contact with her for weeks, and suddenly I had this almost masochistic desire for Chelsea to dump me. I wasn’t particularly fond of the college situation, but I was madly in love so that didn’t matter. I guess I just felt that she wanted to end the relationship. The last thing I ever want is for relationships to go on after someone would rather stop, and it sure looked like Chelsea was stalling for time.

The day of her return came quickly. I remember it specifically. I was walking down State street, which makes up the main part of downtown Newburyport, and I spotted my girlfriend from just outside the corner store.

There was a dramatic pause, and then I ran. Running to my love, just like phoning someone to ask if something is wrong, is another thing I rarely do.

I hugged her tightly, and we exchanged meaningless words. I took her hand in mine as we walked toward the best pizza place in Newburyport, the Pizza Factory. She seemed reluctant to hold hands. It wasn’t avoidance, it felt the same as someone pretending they did not hear what one has said.

We sat in the same booth as always, in the back corner behind the refrigerator. I was overflowing with joy. Chelsea was beautiful. That is the extent to which I can describe my ecstasy. She sat across from me, and I grabbed her arm and lay my head upon it in relief.

She sat for an extensively brief second, and then took her arm away. What?

I looked at her dumbly. And then I spoke.

“Okay, what did you want to talk about.”

(pause)

“Well…I have to break up with you.”

And there it was. I actually smiled when she said this, because I really knew it all along. I also smiled because I had never had such an epic relationship before, and here was its ending, epic in its own right. I smiled because it felt more powerful than frowning.

Chelsea started to cry. She said college totally fucks with your head, and she basically couldn’t hold on to me because she was changing so much. Or something like that.

Ironically, later in the year she dropped out and moved back to Newburyport. I did not care, though. I often reminisced about her, and missed her (as I still do), but I didn’t feel bad about the end of the relationship. We had learned a lot from each other and shared wonderful days. I wouldn’t get back together with her, but she is a large part of my life. I still love her.