Jemily: A Brief History Or Rather, An Explanation

Three years ago yesterday, James took me in his arms, looked deep into my eyes and asked: "So, are we boyfriend/girlfriend yet?" I answered something in the affirmative and a relationship was born. A few months later I moved to Boston for graduate school and we've been mostly long distance ever since. It's annoying/awesome. Here's three reasons for each:

Why It's Annoying

1.) When I go out, I have to buy my own beers. Apparently single straight dudes don't buy you drinks just to be nice or because they're looking for a sassy female sidekick.

2.) I sleep with 5 pillows, two of which I actually use. The other three I assemble into a James-shaped lump that I spoon with. That in itself isn't annoying, it's the fact that I always have to be the big spoon.

3.) Because of James' work schedule we can only talk on the phone after 9:30 pm and we're both usually too tired to have more than a 15 minute conversation about how boring our days were. Sometimes it'll stretch out to 20 if he starts talking about the Red Sox or some wrestler he saw on tv.

Why It's Awesome

1.) When James does start talking about the Red Sox or burly men in short pants I can read celebrity gossip online without him realizing it. Sucker!

2.) There are times when all I want to do is sit in bed and catch up on whatever reality show about rich menopausal women is on Bravo at the moment without having to explain why I haven't left the house all day and that it isn't weird, dammit! I can do that with wild abandon. My roommates think I'm crazy, but that's ok. I'm not trying to sleep with any of them.

3.)Whenever we do see each other we're usually genuinely excited about it--consequently we do nothing but fun things, like have breakfast for dinner and go on shopping sprees at Ocean State Job Lot.

Imagine: We might have children who might see this photo one day. I'll have to explain to them that it was, in fact, not the 1970s.

Sometimes people forget we're together or assume that I'm just making him up. This is probably because we regularly spend days or weeks apart. I have friends whom I've known for years that still haven't met James. Also, we've maybe broken up/gotten back together a few times over the past year. I know I lost count months ago. It's nothing personal. At least...as impersonal as wanting wildly different living situations is.

While I like the excitement of living in cities, James hates public transportation and close contact with transients. I like having access to a never ending variety of cultural opportunities , while James favors familiar places where he isn't required to wear a tie. Sure, I may not always take advantage of said cultural offerings, but I like knowing I could go to the MFA for free on a Thursday if I really wanted to. Likewise, James has nothing against ties but he'd rather have the option to mix it up a bit.

I suppose our relationship is kind of like the opening to Green Acres, or maybe it's like that Potato/Tomato song by Gershwin. Or maybe it's like Brokeback Mountain; We just can't figure out how to quit each other. Some people have suggested that it would be easier if we just broke up. Like, for real. But then I would be sad and lonely all the time. At least now I get a nice James visit to break up the monotony once in a while. Besides, we already tried that for six months sort of. I cried every time we saw each other and ended up making out with a guy with hand tattoos. I mean come on--hand tattoos!

Eventually, something is going to happen: I might get that dream job where I live in London and am paid to do nothing but write about biscuits and tea for Biscuits and Tea Magazine. Or maybe James' Greek mother will curse me for not marrying her beautiful first born son within the first month of dating and I'll be cast off to a barren island in the middle of the Aegean with nothing but goats and sharp rocks for company. Or, maybe, one of us will strike it rich playing Powerball or by selling a book about a neurotic twenty-something just trying to make it in the big city (ahem) and we'll be able to fulfill our shared dream of never having to live through a New England winter again.

Actually, that's just my dream. James' dream involves a wall of TVs, all from the late 70s to the early 90s, all programmed to different channels.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: I don't know what will happen; and though the anxiety-driven control freak in me is having a melt down trying to plan ahead for the next five years, the relatively normal part of me is happy for the time we've had--even with all the strange detours our relationship has taken along the way. I know that I've made a friend for life, no matter what happens. Because if you've found someone who knows about your weird little dream about a wall made from TVs harvested from the Goodwill who will still answer your phone calls, you never let that person go. You hear me? Never.