So I wrote, I Don’t Do Online a few days back. And I mean every word.
I do, however, feel a need to address the OTHER side of distance in relationships. The side I chose when I had my own online romance blossom, and the side I still love, when I feel it.
Distance can grow intimacy.
There, I said it.
Seems kind of like the opposite of what I was saying before, doesn’t it? I know, I know. I’m like that. Dichotomies fascinate me, and comprise 90% of who I am.
See, here’s the thing…
New relationships have NRE (New Relationship Energy), and that shit is potent, amirite?
I am. I know it. You know it.
The rush of hormones and chemicals we get when in the presence of our new shiny toy is fucking awesome. It’s a heady drug. It’s the “fuck like bunnies, can’t keep your hands to yourself” feeling that drives us to the sheets three, four, five, or more times in a day spent with our new lover.
But there is a catch.
When we spend time together with our mouths full of body parts, we aren’t talking. We aren’t learning each other mentally and emotionally, we aren’t communicating.
So, what are we doing?
We’re using sex to replace intimacy. And we’re missing out.
You see, without the deep conversations, the really getting to know each other, we start feeling like we know each other, without actually knowing each other.
We feel intimate—we are, sexually—but we don’t get intimate, mentally.
Now, I’m not saying never. I never do that. cheeky grin I’m saying it’s a trap that’s easy to fall into. And we do. Happily, crazily, in love/lust.
So, here is where distance comes into play.
And it need not be physical distance, as in long-distance. Although that can help, sometimes (being able to pick up the phone on Wednesday evening, invite your lover over for a movie in sweats and sexy times makes it sooooo easy to do that, yannow), it’s really just about SOME sort of distance.
- The distance that takes you away from each other, before you come back together again.
- The distance that allows you to miss each other.
- The distance that grows your separate experiences, for you to share.
- The distance that encourages sweet talking and text messages and makes you WANT to feel emotionally closer, since you are not physically close.
- The distance that allows you to step back from arguments you may have had, and look at them objectively.
- The distance that allows you to bare your soul, because it’s easier when you can’t see your lover wince at your deepest desires.
- The distance that encourages you to remind your lover that you are thinking about him or her, to send sweet notes, cards, emails, texts.
- The distance that allows you time to be alone, and to feel WHO YOU ARE, outside of your relationship. And to make you realize that you always want that relationship in your life (or not, but that is another writing, LOL!).
It’s funny. When my ex and I moved in together, after six months of online courtship, we meshed very well. Except one thing.
We’d closed the distance.
We didn’t spend hours just talking anymore. Why do that when you live together, and can talk anytime?
We didn’t text each other through the day. Why do that, when you live together and will see each other by walking into the next room.
We didn’t miss each other, because we did everything together…
And there was no more distance.
And we didn’t know how to create the distance, or maybe our core needs were just different, and he didn’t need the distance.
I need the distance.
I need my time. My alone time. My time out with friends. My travels. Whatever. Distance.
I need you to have it, too. To need it. To bring me home new stories and adventures, and flirting, and art, and ideas, and energy, and pent up passion from missing me—whether for months, week, or just one day.
And when I KNOW someone’s scent. Their body. Their eyes and gestures, I don’t mind a distance. I don’t mind travel and scheduling. I don’t mind all the effort it takes to bring us back together again.
Because the clash when we’ve missed each other is amazing. Sexy. Hot.
So, yes, there is something wonderful about distance.
