How to Make a Long-Distance Relationship Work, Part 4
November 28, 2007
Today’s installment is going to have to be quick because I’m a sick-y, and my head is pounding. Who knew that so much mucous could come out of one so polite and genteel as I? The illness gods have not granted my wish for that one really, really good nose-blow where everything comes out from deep inside, and afterward you can’t help but peek in the kleenex and say, “Yesssssss.”
Thankfully we had no fruit orders to go out today, so my co-workers and I didn’t have to work. Mom went shopping and asked if I wanted to come along, but I decided to spend the afternoon in my pajamas on the couch with the dog. It has proven to be a fantastic decision except that every time I get up to re-medicate, the dog has stolen my place on the couch.
For the most part, those who replied to the last post (and you can still reply if you’d like) said that they, too, believe that technology has made long-distance dating more rampant than it was twenty years ago. Some brought out the point, however, that times of war change the statistics. Quite logical. Perhaps one reason long-distance dating is more common today is because of the War In Iraq, all technology-speak aside. But World War II or World War I probably saw more situations of long-distance relationships just because so many more soldiers were involved.
The most difficult obstacle I’ve encountered in this whole D Dating Debacle is trust. Sure, it’s tough to go places without your boyfriend and to not know when you’ll see him again, but trust is a major hurdle. I have to trust that even though he hasn’t seen me in the past four months, he still likes me. I have to trust that he is, indeed, the good man that I think he is and that he won’t chase any skirts or capris (dear goodness, I hope not) or gaucho pants. It would be so easy for one of us to cheat, and no one would ever have to know about it.
I especially struggled with this in the beginning. Here I was dating this guy whom I had met only twice before he scooted off to California for his next year of school. When 9 p.m. rolled around and those free cell phone minutes began, I would often get worried if he didn’t call me. When 9:05 came, I would carry my phone around with me and start glancing at it every thirty seconds. 9:10 brought with it sweaty palms and glares of angst. 9:15 had me fuming. Why hasn’t he called yet? And then I would try to call him and get his voicemail, and the whole world would tumble, tumble, tumble: Who is he with? (My knees look particularly ugly today.) What is he doing? (I should probably consider working out a little more.) Where is he going? (I don’t just feel fat. I am fat. My hips are entirely too wide for the rest of my body.) WHY DOESN’T HE CALL? DOESN’T HE CARE ABOUT ME? AM I NOT A PRIORITY IN HIS LIFE? (He’s going to dump me because he thinks my thighs look like Dachshunds.)
So, for a while, like a mother, I instated this spoken un-rule that we needed to check in with one another at 9 p.m. my time and 7 p.m. his time each evening. I used the excuse that I wanted to plan my evening around his call so I wouldn’t sit by the phone waiting for him, but I could still fit talking to him into my “busy” schedule. Yeah. My busy evening schedule of watching episodes of Mary Tyler Moore on DVD, snipping cute outfits out of magazines, and contributing to those sausage thighs with giant bowls of ice cream.
Now, on occasion, I would go out with L, or my roommate and friend AS, or friend AA for dinner or a movie or game-playing. On those nights, I was far less worried about what D was doing. In fact, 9 p.m. would roll around, and I wouldn’t even notice that we hadn’t checked in. Why? Because I was actually getting out and living my life.
Apparently I am a much more structured person than D is because the spoken un-rule started to drive him crazy. He called me on it, among other things, and we had a big fight of the worst kind: the Maybe We Should Break Up kind. So, I realized I needed to lighten up. If I had to speak to him each evening in order to feel like I could trust him, then I really didn’t trust him at all. I must note here that D has never done anything to make me doubt his trust. In fact, he is one of the most loyal people I know — loyal to his family and friends. All the worries resulted from my own inability to get beyond stuff that’s happened to me in the past. I have an abandonment complex which overpowered all the truth I knew about D. In my head I believed he would leave me, and if it was in my head, I was convinced it was how it was going to be.
I’m kind of dumb sometimes.
After D and I talked about all this, I knew that I had to let go. My fear of my own inadequacies was pushing him away from me. He felt like he had to choose between being with me and living his life. And if anyone starts feeling like that in a relationship, the wise thing to do is to contemplate whether or not you should be in it. I’ll never forget the beginning of that conversation, just how he said, “I feel like my needs aren’t being met,” and the four hours of talking/crying/yelling it out and the no-sleep-that-night that followed. The deep, hard sacrifices come with marriage and engagement. At this point, D shouldn’t have to choose me over his friends and his goals. I should come with his friends and with his goals. We are together at this point not because of need but because of choice. And sometimes perhaps there is more power in that logical, active choice than in a vulnerable, passive need. Any thoughts?
Those first few nights of not talking to him were agony. Thankfully L was visiting from San Francisco, and she and my other friends encouraged me and hugged me and helped me get over the little wounds in my heart. They also helped me stay busy because I’m such a homebody that my first tendency is to stay at home “reflecting” on situations when really what I am doing is drowning in the proverbial abyss of self-centeredness. Once I took time to be upset about it for a while I just needed to move on. I had to make the decision — the non-emotion-driven decision — to trust D. I had to list off all his fantastic characteristics and decide that they provided enough evidence for me to trust him. I had to stop taking my issues out on him. I had to let go of me.
Oh everytime I read these installments I succumb to temptation and go off on a long, drawn explanation of my theory of long distance relationships. It’s your blog, and it doesn’t really need 50,000 words from me on the subject, does it. The succinct version goes like this: long distance relationships are distillations. They’re exaggerations of who you are as individuals and as a couple.
If you’re prone to pacing in front of an un-ringing telephone, you will wear a hole in your floor. Fortunately, I’m not. If you are prone to hashing out every real or imagined problem in neurotic detail–as I am–you will. In fact, the problem with staying so closely in touch is that you will have nothing else to do but be neurotic because, over the phone you can’t shut the fuck up and comfortably share silence without one of you finally saying hello? are you still there? If the both of you are that way… well, that’s the story of Lee Ella & Richie.
Or maybe the shallowness of your connection will be speedily exposed by existing only in text messages like “It’s cold.” “I wish I were there.” “I’d be warmer?”
Like I said: it’s a distillation, a relationship without the mitigating influences of long nights out with friends or bored discussions of what to do on a Friday night.
your thighs look like small dogs. this is hilarious.
I know the feeling of 9pm cell phone waiting/sweating/fuming/pondering/loathing all too well. What is it about that?
Ann, this post is most excellent. Thank you for sharing, and for sharing with such grace and beauty in your writing. I hope you feel better soon.
I am so happy I came across this site. I too have been in a long distance realtionship, first from Florida to Arizona, then from Florida to Iraq. We are now engaged, but I can really relate, especially about the whole abandonement complex. It really brought a lot of light into the things I am going through, and makes me feel better to know that I am not the only one feeling this way.
I came across this website while searching for Dachsund pictures… anyway, I used to be like that with one I met from a distance away, and it was like that for a while… the way I cope with these things now, since I married a woman from Canada, (and we’re still waiting for the reply from USCIS with a conditional visa number so she can work here) is by just acting like I’m single.
I don’t mean talking to girls or any of that jazz, but just going about normal routines, trying not to think about things. Yeah, you have schedules that always don’t match up, (I work overnight and she works daily) but it really doesn’t help to worry… I know how difficult that can be, especially if you are very passionate about someone, but I’ve come to learn that passion over someone doesn’t make you care about them any more than any other person – the best part is how you fit in all ways, yes?
I hope you got to see him on the Christmas since your post and I hope you guys, if you’re still together, have a wonderful life together
I just love dachshunds I even have a few my sell but I thought this one was very cute.
You are quite insecure about yourself and life, you must be an american women. You and your friends are what is wrong with dating in america and just american women in general. The Need to discuss STUFF so you can move on and work STUFF out, jesus where do you american women collect so many problems and why must the men you are grabbing a hold of help you work them out????
Wow, that’s a little harsh there Bill. Not all American women are like that.
And for sure, women of other races have these kinds of problems too, so no need to generalize one group.
I just have to ask since I came across this website by accident. Is this your dachshund? I was just wondering because we have a 5 yr old male that looks exactly like this one. I have never seen one that looks so much like my beloved Ditto.