I miss Jilly. Very much. I don't know if I'll ever see her again. All I can do is try to get further each day. But the longer it takes, the harder it gets. Things aren't like they used to be, you know.
Jilly Bean was one of those women you had to watch out for. She easily could have been that hot babe who always appears in the 1940's private eye stories just as things get boring. Except she didn't have the French accent. It was more of a New York accent on speed. That's Jilly - sexy, fast talking Jilly.
I remember when we first met. Freshmen. High School. We were both waiting in the lunch line. I awkwardly introduced myself. She smiled and reciprocated. That was tough because I was sure I was going to pee my pants.
She was the social butterfly, I was the flutter-by. She was popular, I was invisible. I was nervous and excited when she passed by in the hall and God forbid she should look at me. I'd melt. She spoke to me once, when we were both Sophomores. I think I passed out.
Eventually, by the start of our Senior year, we were speaking and laughing and comfortable with each other. Friends and nothing more. She still had freckles and I had yet to develop facial hair. Boy, would that change. Within a year, she was completely freckle-less and I had enough of a beard for two.
We first made out as we headed towards being college Freshmen. All that summer we drew closer because we were afraid we'd drift apart. We were both dreading telling each other that we were going away to college. We could have spared ourselves the anguish, because we ended up going to the same community college about 3 hours away from our hometown. We were so happy when we found out we actually kissed and didn't stop kissing for the next 3 hours.
You can see where this is going. We started dating. I played Bogie to her Bacall. She was snookums and I was sweetie pie. Then the worst thing imaginable happened. We both fell in love with our chosen professions.
Jilly wanted to be an actress. I wanted to be an Aerospace Engineer. We talked for months about how I could get a job in California at JPL or Hughes or something and she could pursue her acting career. We planned marriage and kids and careers and the great American Dream was within our grasp.
That was when the crap hit the fan - or, more correctly; when the asteroid hit the Earth.
That was when Jilly and I were parted. I was on the east coast, doing a last minute, high paying engineering consulting gig. She was on the west coast, auditioning for her first movie role. I had no choices, considering the rampant destruction that occured. I could no longer just hop a flight to LA and rejoin her. I'd have to walk. And even then, I might never find her. You can't imagine what I went through unless you've made the trip yourself.