Male • 14 • Massachusetts
In January of my freshman year of high school, my girlfriend tearfully informed me that her dad had changed jobs and that she would be moving to New Hampshire the following summer. The distance was not too far in adult terms — maybe a ninety-minute drive — but as far as we were concerned, she might as well have been moving to the moon. We'd been together nearly two years (minus a truly awful three-day breakup) and I was convinced, as only sensitive fourteen-year-olds can be, that she was The One. After we got over the shock of her moving, we'd talk on the phone for hours about how everything would be fine once we were old enough to have cars. We'd be able to visit each other without asking our parents to drive us, we'd go to the same college, and then we'd get married. We thought it was magic that the Beach Boys had written "Wouldn't It Be Nice" about us, before we were even born.
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