399 miles is what keeps us apart. That is the distance from Dinosaur to Rush. That’s where his green roof is, exactly 399 miles away from my brown multi-colored one, or so Google maps tell me. In street view I walk down his road and stop in front of that green, metal, roofed house painted white with hunter green trim, slowly chipping away.

I hesitate at his drive way and wish he’d step out of the door with his barefeet and wave then say “Angelica! What are you doing here? Come inside where it’s cool, out of the heat of summer time!” I’d smile and take his invitation. As soon as I’d cross the threshold he’d thrust an orange crush into my hand and sit me down on that brown, beaten couch the smells like dog.

There we’d catch up and he’d tell me all those stupid jokes he says would die over a text. Suddenly the words would stop…and we’d look into each other’s eyes…deeply. Lean forward as our pulses quickened and then…We’d kiss.

But 399 miles separate us. I can neither hug him, kiss him, hold hands with him, run my fingers through his hair, see him smile (more than just this computer screen displaying a frozen moment in time in the form of his Facebook profile), or, most of all, hear all those silly, stupid, jokes.

So I sit on Google maps street view, hesitating in front of his house, trying to peep through those windows, pretending I can catch a glimpse of him. I always wonder if he ever does the same thing. Does he miss me as much as I miss him? I’m not sure. He says he’s gotten a summer job at the lumber mill to pay for gas so he can come and see me. Because of that job he hardly ever texts me. He doesn’t want to lose his job so he leaves his phone in his red truck all day long. Most days by the time he gets home he’s too exhausted to converse with me. So this is the way our relationship goes: I text him good morning and he texts me goodnight. We like pictures of one another on Facebook and he comments and tells me how beautiful I am, sometimes that he misses me or that he can’t wait to see me. I feel like the needy one because, well, what do I do to ensure we meet again face to face? Talk him up to my parents, wait ever so patiently, stalk him over the internet? Yeah.

I bite my lip as the logical side of my brain takes over. You know, you’re only young once. It whispers to me. Who wants a boyfriend that lives 399 miles away? So much waiting, for what? A couple of hours of face to face time? and then I laugh as I remember Pirates of the Caribbean. Elizabeth and Will. 10 years at sea, one day at shore. Is he really worth it? Asks my logic of me. I sure hope so… I whisper in reply. He works just to see me. We haven’t said it to one another yet but we love each other.

We’ve known each other for 10 years, secretly liked each other for eight months, and have been in a relationship for three months. The road between Dinosaur and Rush is long. 399 miles to be exact. Farther than I can walk, run, and I don’t have a driver’s license yet. 399 miles can’t keep us apart and can’t stop us from falling in love. It can’t stop us from working, and certainly can’t end our relationship. One day, we’ll be together for real, in person, and in love. On that day nothing will separate us.