The surviving started before I even left the country. It began about two months beforehand, when I told him my plans about going to South America. For half a year.
We'd already been doing medium- distance thing for a while now, ever since he moved from Sydney to Newcastle for a work opportunity he couldn't pass up. And there I was daring to put even more miles between us. Miles and oceans and time zones.
1. Why
The first thing he needed to get straight was "Why?"
Why now?
Why by yourself?
I answer all the above in a previous post here.
2. Set behavioural expectations
For some people, long-distance relationships are an easy-ticket to open relationships. If you're one of them, say so. If you're not, say so. Set an agreed level of behaviour so there's no second guessing if they'd approve you doing a, b, or c with x, y or z.
3. Set communication expectations
Facetime
Skype
Email
Text
Whatsapp
Viber
Facebook Messenger
Snapchat
Postcards
Snail mail
Agree on preferred methods of communication. If it's a combination of the above, specify which ones, and how often. Get your sim cards and logins sorted so you're not sending messages to an account they don't regularly check or can't remember the password to.
On top of calculating time differences, you also need to account for differences in internet access itself. The traveller will have it intermittently, while the stayer will have it almost constantly. Does that mean they don't have to message the other person everyday? Maybe yes. Maybe no. Just make sure you set the expectation. Don't assume you're both on the same page. Like I did.
At the start of my holiday I went days and days camping without internet access, expecting to arrive at the next hotel (motel, Holiday Inn) to a bunch of long messages about his days. Messages to the same mundane effect as what we'd normally exchange on a daily basis. What we had for breakfast. How our morning coffee tasted. How our sleep was. How our day at work went. What's cooking for dinner. Yada, yada.
Although boring - what these messages would have ultimately indicated was that he was at least thinking of me.
Meanwhile, my heart would beat with giddiness typing in complicated wi-fi passwords, expecting my phone to be inundated with alerts once connected. But to my dismay, there was often nothing. A few lines, if I was lucky. An "I love you" or "I miss you." They came across as unfeeling, robotic. Yet what I really wanted to know was how his haircut went. Did he get his mobile bill sorted? Did he submit his assignment on time?
In my mind, if he had stopped confiding in me about the little things - he must have also stopped confiding in me about the big things. Left to draw my own conclusions, I started jumping to worst case scenarios. Was I replaced by another female real-time listener?
I was only a few weeks into my holiday, and couldn't believe we were already falling apart. Especially after leaving on such a high note believing we could make it work.
I brought it up by comparing (i.e. complaining) that a female friend on the tour was practically flooded with messages by her significant other.
He defended that he actually did have stuff going on. Work dramas. Housemate dramas. MBA dramas. But he chose to keep them to himself so as not to ruin my holiday. I mean, the nerve! How dare he care about me so much as to censor the things that were going on in his life!
Seeing things from his perspective, I had to set the record straight. Just because I was on the other side of the world, didn't mean I wanted to stop being there for him. After all, supporting each other is one of the fundamentals of being in a relationship. If that stopped, what was the point of staying together? I had to reassure him that within reason, just because he was having a bad day, did not mean I would impose a bad day upon myself.
Once we got that sorted, we settled into a rhythm.
We Facetimed when my internet access allowed it to. When it was slow we'd Whatsapp instead. On days we weren't live streaming, he now sent me messages - everything from the banal to the bizarre. In turn, I drafted emails (i.e. rants that kept me sane) to him while on the road. I'd send these in bulk when I finally got the chance, providing him with some not-so-light reading material. Before leaving each site from which there was internet, I gave him my itinerary for the next few days, and approximately how long it would be until the next biggish town with probable chance of wi-fi.
Now I've been back for almost five months, and needless to say we're glad to have each other back. Caught in the cross-fire of my personal dreams to travel South America, my time overseas served as a survival test for our relationship. Instead of drifting apart and setting us back, we feel like we've gone up a relationship level (or two). It allowed us to prove our commitment to each other - and with it the confidence to overcome the remainder of obstacles that life will throw at us.
Wishing each other a good morning from Brazil, and a good night from Australia.
Love, Noeline
xox
