The Long-Distance Relationship

I’ve gone backwards and forwards trying to write about this. I even fleetingly toyed with posting on Valentine’s Day, because when your other half is on the wrong side of the ocean there are only so many ways to make a gesture. But the potential for self-indulgent rambling was too great, so I shelved it for another week.

I decided the time had come to blog firstly because I’ve been doing the long-distance thing for about five months now and have a vague grasp on what it entails, and secondly because for the past week I have wanted nothing more than to sit on my boyfriend’s back and mash his face repeatedly into the ground; a feeling that should act as a foil for excessive emotion. Mawkish content aside, this is a blog about my experiences at Berkeley, and having a significant other beyond the sea is part and parcel of that. 

The long-distance relationship is something most people have to face up to at some stage. My parents have been married for over twenty years, my Dad’s work takes him to other countries a lot, and my mother has always said to me, with that edge of steel in her voice that after ten years of trying I’m still failing to replicate: “The key to a successful relationship is spending lots of time apart.” I don’t know whether I took this too closely to heart (anyone who has met my mother knows she’s not the sort of person you ignore) or if it’s just been pure luck, but The Graduate and I are close to our one-year anniversary: and while that may be peanuts to some, it’s the longest and most functional relationship I’ve ever had. We’ve spent about half of it five thousand miles apart. 

To recap: I have been angry with my boyfriend. Has he done anything to merit this aggression? No.  Then why am I behaving like a lunatic? Because he is on the wrong continent, and I don’t like it. Can either of us do anything about that? No; it is what it is. When I came out to Berkeley last August I belonged to a fairly sizeable community who were all trying the long-distance thing. Now with the second semester people have moved back home, fallen into an open relationship, or broken up altogether, and I’ve become one of the strange ones. People are curious: always asking what’s it like, or don’t you miss him, though, which is stupid; or trying to draw me into a would-you-ever-cheat or what-if-he-cheated game, which is voyeuristic and weird. I’ve also had friends and acquaintances- because guess what, everyone is extraordinarily good-looking out here and people fall in love left right and center- asking how I manage it, as they try and figure out if it’s a step they want to make when this year ends and we are scattered back across the four corners of the globe. So here are a few long-distance (and largely hypocritical since I’m sure I’ve failed at all of them at one stage) bullet points for your consumption.

What Makes It Hard: 

1)      You don’t see each other and missing each other is an absolute bitch.

2)      Relationships are not just two people. Having each other is all well and good, but you also need the affirmation and affection of family and friends to prove you’re going in the right direction. I’ve never forgotten the anxiety when my last boss told me “You want to stay with this guy? Forget it, it just won’t work,”; or the delight when I first introduced him to my housemates and my best friend, breath heavy with whisky whispered in her Irish lilt “Oh my God Em he’s wonderful.” When you’re apart, your other half doesn’t have a place in the community you build, and that makes it much harder to get a second opinion on how the two of you are doing. “I can’t even picture what he looks like.” The Laconic Australian said the other day, scrutinizing the photos pinned above my desk “his face looks so different in all of these.”  

3)      Touch. The old chestnut about how you never realize what you have until it’s gone. Being able to hold hands, lean against their shoulder or hug them until they wheeze is vastly overlooked in short-distance relationships. Being able to touch makes difficult conversations easier, and is a mark of comfort, security, happiness otherwise. Going without it is a strain. 

 

   4)      The lack of immediacy The Graduate and I are limited to windows of contact due to the eight-hour time difference. For him it’s normally five in the afternoon by the time I’m even awake, and what with my classes and other commitments we normally don’t get to talk until around nine in the evening his time. I have to take time out of the middle of my day for us to chat, and when I’m winding down in the evenings it’s three a.m. at home. You get on with that. Even more frustrating is the moment when you’re in the crux of a joke, a sentimental moment, or a heated debate and your webcam or microphone goes on the blink. Say what? It’s not great for spontaneity.

What Makes it Okay- and eventually worth it: 

1)      You’re forced to work through the ugly stuff: Not having the physical side of a relationships is one of the most painful things about it, but what it does mean is that you’re forced to really talk to each other when you have a scrap, or if one of you is feeling a bit shit.

  

2)      Technology makes the world a smaller place: When it comes to actually being apart, most of us don’t even know we’ve been born. Facebook and Twitter keep a constant running commentary on the most mundane of activities, and Skype means you can speak face-to-face with your beloved every day, if that’s what you want. Outside of immediate contact there are all kinds of online communities, blogs, advice columns and forums where people offer tips and support. There’s even a terrifying Japanese pillow that captures your lover’s heartbeat, although I haven’t felt driven to this stage quite yet.

3)      At some point it ends. I know he hasn’t booked his plane tickets yet (yes that’s a dig Mister it’s March now, get a bloody move on), but we are planning a roadtrip and when that ends I will be back in Blighty. And for those long-distance couples who don’t have the luxury of a fixed end-point, that doesn’t mean you should give up. Walk around the International House and you often come across small brass plaques outside the bedrooms, celebrating couples who met here, kept it together, and frequently ended up married. The whole building is like a weird Neo Mediterranean Colonial testament to love across the distance.  It can work.

4)      Statistics show that if a long-distance relationship is going to fail, the average timespan for that is in the first four and a half months. Break past that barrier, and you can be fairly sure you’re onto a good thing. And when you do get to see each other it’s hella good times. 

Making it Work: 

1)      Be sure it’s what you both want: For long-distance to work, both sides of the agreement have to be fully behind it. If one person isn’t sure then leave it, come back to it, but don’t try and push it. 

Helping me cook at Thanksgiving

2)      Set your boundaries. If you want to be monogamous, if you want to be in an open relationship, if you want to take time out and see where you are when you’re home again, then be 100% open about it. Taking emotional ambiguity and putting several thousand miles between it is not a recipe for success. 

3)      Talk, often. Talk about any and all stuff happening to you, however big, small, weird or mundane. What seems boring or run-of-the-mill to you is often interesting to them because they don’t get to live it. The internet is your oyster: use it. Share articles, videos, memes, that trending video of the dancing pony. 

4)      Not too much though: This is my ultimate long-distance flaw. I still spend too much time sitting in front of the computer hoping he’s going to appear. Then if he doesn’t appear I get angry and he doesn’t understand what he’s done. Step. Away. From. The. Computer. Which segues neatly into

5)      Learn to be happy and functional without each other. Can’t stress it enough. Yes you need each other and you miss each other, but you also need to have a life outside of each other, if for no other reason than it will give you lots to talk about. The relationship has to work around your life, not the other way round. 

I miss The Graduate every day, but through trial and error we are making the distance work. We have a common enemy in the ‘big bully Atlantic’, which frequently finds itself victim to attacks of rage. We have both messed up at one time or another. He still makes me laugh until I feel sick. I hope he forgives my temper tantrums of the past week, because the fact remains that I’m deeply in love with him, and there’s no-one I’d rather share the frustration of a broken Skype video with. And if you’re thinking of going long-distance yourself, the only other thing I can suggest is that you try it. You never know where it might take you. 

Oh, and here's that dancing pony, to a strangely appropriate soundtrack. Happy March!