The huz and I endured a recent bout of long distance, which brought me back to the good, or not so good, old days of our two years apart during grad school. Though ultimately I think our time separated strengthened our ties, I don’t think it actually fortified my tolerance for the long-distance relationship. If anything, I find my resilience weakened—perhaps because I’ve stood on the dock at five AM before and know the bite of the frigid water. That, and I’ve forgotten certain LDR imperatives, like the importance of communication. To be fair, it’s not so much that we don’t try to communicate—in my relationship there are a nauseating amount of Blackberry messenger hearts and kissy faces thrown back and forth—however, time differences and exhaustion (mostly on hubby’s part) get in the way of the kind of epic calls (and yes, phone sex) we used to have. Things should be all the spicier now that our updated MacBooks have video but it would seem that we don’t have the gusto for marathon Skype action. Suffice to say, last time we dialed up I watched him nod off fully clothed. The truth is, I want the stolen kiss when I bring him a piece of toast while we work at our desks in the morning. I want to cuddle up to his warm body in bed and then roll away when I overheat. I’ve become decidedly domestic—so much so that everything I once though was a libido buzz kill, is precisely what I crave.
One could argue, as Esther Perel does in her book Mating in Captivity: Reconciling the Erotic & the Domestic that time apart is good for the mojo. And it’s true that the homecoming nookie is always top notch. So perhaps in future I should learn to redirect my faraway fantasies away from the mundane. That and don more Skype-worthy lingerie. My disclaimer for our long-distance languor is that day-to-day spontaneity is not our biggest challenge. For even when we’re sleeping under the same roof, my man’s work schedule is so wildly unpredictable that planning dinner together is a gong show. Don’t even get me started on vacations—last year I spent a lovely summer holiday at his parent’s cottage without him.When we have a free moment together, we know to take full advantage. So maybe if our life were any more normal, routine would be a turn off. For the moment doing a grocery run together, or heaven forbid, folding the laundry, is the height of foreplay.