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September 1, 2005
A Little Distance
A few months ago I was thinking about how I'd like to spend next summer in Europe, but it would be really inconvenient because the post office will only hold mail for 30 days, plus I have a cat and a house full of stuff I can't just go off and leave. Then I thought about my colleagues who are married or have live-in partners, and how they gallivant around the planet and leave their spouses back home to take care of everything. "That's what I need," I thought. "I need a live-in boyfriend who will babysit my cat and keep an eye on my stuff while I go to Europe for six months."
I told Tom about this. "Holly," he said, "most people want a boyfriend or a girlfriend not so they can go off and leave them, but so they can be with them."
"Yeah," I said, "I know. But I've always thought most people put way too much emphasis on the whole togetherness part of a relationship."
I wasn't just being perverse when I said this. My closest friends live in Brussels, Hollywood and Seattle. The guy in Brussels in particular I hardly ever see–-the last time was May 2002, and that was because he bought me a roundtrip plane ticket from Phoenix to Brussels. Given that he was so generous to me, and given the fact that I can call western Europe for three or four cents a minute, I figure it's my moral duty to call him often. As for the other two, weekend and evening calls on the cell phone are free. I feel we do a pretty good job of maintaining warm and intimate friendships. Not only that, but I was in a couple of long-distance relationships, and I liked certain things about them. For one thing, I write fabulous love letters, a skill I rarely have opportunity to use.
Tom is married to someone very cool and they have a very cool five-year-old daughter. I have gotten the distinct impression that he enjoys spending time with his wife and child. He rolled his eyes at me, despite my sound logic. "Are there are any other reasons you'd want a boyfriend?" he asked.
"Of course," I said.
"Like what?"
"Oh," I said, pausing to think, "uh, physical affection. Intellectual companionship--definitely. And emotional intimacy."
"So what matters most?" he asked.
"Well, I guess...I guess the physical affection/ intellectual companionship/ emotional intimacy stuff all kind of tie for first place, but the free cat-sitting runs a close fourth," I said. "I'm not afraid of a little distance."
Apparently the only part of my request the universe paid attention to was the "not afraid of a little distance" part. Not long ago I met someone I really liked, at least for a while. Unfortunately, we lived on opposite sides of the continent. There were other reasons the relationship died an early and ugly death, but the distance didn't help.
And now that I think about it, I remember that although there were things I liked about long-distance relationships, my two previous efforts ultimately failed as well. I have been forced to admit that despite all the ways modern technology makes it possible to stay in touch with someone, it's not the same as being together.
To hell with free cat-sitting. I'll trade it for someone whose face I can actually see when he says "Hello."
Posted by holly at September 1, 2005 12:16 AM
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