Please read the Introduction first
When I was ~six years old, my parents had friendship with a family that lived ~1 mile away in rural Hamden, CT named Everett. They had two girls (Jamie & Niki). I had an older brother & sister. The Everett family were frequent visitors to our home. Niki was my sister’s age, and Jamie was a year older than my brother. I was ~6yo and Jamie was 11. Jamie became my brother’s “girlfriend”, and I was jealous as hell! Jamie was pretty, and had been very nice to me. My big brother? Not so much. I remember once the two of them sitting on our couch, very close together. As I came up behind the couch, I tried to insert my face between their heads (come on… I was just a little kid); I thought my brother was about to break my face. As I ran away, Jamie called for me to come and sit next to her. As I did, my brother sat at her other side, and fumed. That was all it took for me to be infatuated with Jamie, even at that young age. As the years wore on, and our families drifted apart somewhat, I thought about Jamie constantly. I tracked her life with info from my mom, and rode my bike by her house, incessantly. I was hoping to see her outside so that I could act as though I just happened to be going by, and get to see her. My brother eventually took Jamie to his HS prom, and I fell in love with her… she was gorgeous!
Jamie & my brother eventually broke up, and tracking her life became more of a challenge; I didn’t want to be obvious. She ended up marrying a veterinarian, and moved out of state; I was crushed. My fantasy of ever getting close to her died. But I still couldn’t forget her. I still drove by her parent’s house, occasionally… maybe she would come back home for a visit?
Life went on, and I heard that Jamie & her husband had moved back to CT. I eventually got married & had two perfect kids. As time passed, I started to have panic attacks, and what turned out to be undiagnosed autistic meltdowns. This took a serious toll on my marriage, and my wife eventually divorced me. It’s important to note that starting in my teens, and most likely due to my autism, I got validation for my existence from other people that needed me (girl friends, wife, kids, etc).
After my divorce, nobody really needed me anymore, so it was time for me to exit. By this time, I had stock-piled a significant amount of psych meds for Panic Disorder and the associated anxiety & depression. The pills, along with a 5th of cheap vodka, should do what I needed. By the time the pills & booze started to take effect, I started feeling pretty good about things; nothing mattered anymore. I wondered if there was anything I wanted to do right before I died. There was! I knew what town Jamie & the vet lived in. I was gonna call Jamie, and let her know that I loved her, and always had. And that’s what I did! So we talked for a bit. The call was pretty short, as I recall. I was getting pretty sloppy and incoherent. We hung up, and I laid down on my futon, a very happy man. I had told Jamie what was going on with me, that night; she didn’t know where I lived, so she had no way of finding me, or so I thought. She called my brother (they had recently been in touch) to find out where I lived. She called 911, and met them at my apartment building to help find my apartment. Jamie and the fire department found me unconscious on the futon. Ambulance to the hospital, where I stayed unconscious for three days; Jamie said she visited me each day.
Fast forward a few months. Jamie and I started “seeing” each other after that. She told me how unhappy she was in her marriage, and I told her that she didn’t have to live like that. She divorced, and we eventually married. That call was thirty years ago. This second half of my live has been, absolutely, better than I even fantasized about. Jamie & I are having a wonderful time, growing old together. We are both so very glad I made that very short bucket list, phone call.