It’s been a year since we spoke, one year from today, February 14th. I miss him so much that my heart bleeds, if it were possible. A Valentine’s Day without love is like having a hole in your heart. I’ve had a hole in mine since our last Valentine’s Day. There was no tomorrow for us since his phone number was changed due to too many fan phone calls. If only he had told me, but his email was blocked, so we’re cut off from each other.
I never meant to slip his email on his message board. I miss him more than my favorite TV shows that have gone off the air, more than my rabbit who died a year ago, even more than Dream Street itself. Jesse’s not just a boy in a band; he’s my best friend and only boyfriend, who I never meant to let go. My love is true like his vivid green eyes that shine when he laughs, he brightens my day. There isn’t a better person I know than him.
It’s been 365 days since Jesse was just a phone call away. My heart bleeds like the red roses an admirer sent me, but they’re not from Jesse because he doesn’t send flowers, signing the From: space with a typed name. I wish it could be Jesse, but in the end, despite the love letters and sweet messages, it never is him, no matter what my dreams or heart and soul tell me.
I plugged my personal phone line in for the first time since I didn’t get through to Jesse and it miraculously started ringing. And it rang… and rang… until I let the answering machine pick up.
“Hey baby, it’s been such a long time. I miss you and I’m sorry that I was cut off from you. I changed my phone and e-mail, but I lost track of you somehow. Happy V-day and I’ll see you sooner than you think. Love ya.”
There was silence after the machine beeped. I watched the few concerts I videotaped to remind me of his face, his voice and smile. I saw us together when he gave me my first rose, my favorite flower. A door bell rang, but I didn’t know it’d be mine. I heard a door squeak open. I turned around, but saw nothing.
I turned the TV off, as I had to cry my heart out and pray for him to return to my side. I felt myself rise off of my sofa.
I heard a comforting voice, “It’s all right.”
It sounded like Jesse. I caught a whiff of Old Spice cologne that smelled like Jesse. I looked up into the green eyes like Jesse’s, but they were strained with his salty tears.
“Jesse?” I could hardly whisper because was both hurting and happy.
This love hurts from missing him so much. I didn’t think I’d ever be in his arms again. Most of all, I was afraid of dying alone and I thought it’d be today I’d die from depression. I sat Jesse down and told him everything.
“I had been in the hospital once or twice for depression in the past year. Nothing seemed to bounce me back but looking at my videotapes of the concerts and the times we’ve had together. I’ve wanted to die, go out of existence since you were the only constant in my life. Not Dream Street, but you, Jess. I love you so much that I hated it when you left me behind. Seeing you again, on today of all days was the best present you could have ever given me.”
He comforted me as I cried my eyes out and whined as loud as my lungs could take it, but he never cared. He held me, rubbed my back and kissed all of my troubles away.
I shuddered to think out loud, “If you didn’t come back, I could have been hospitalized for the last time.” I whispered in his ear, “You saved my life.”
He said those fateful words, “I love you,” and made everything back to the way it was supposed to be.
Jesse’s no longer a phone call away, he’s only a couple of houses away from me, and that’s the way it has been forever and ever.
