Once upon a time I was in a long-term long-distance relationship. The distance was so far that it required a lot of regular telecommunication and we dated for so long that it became a habit.
This is an example of a normal day.
Morning: Text message from person who got up first. Phone call to let texter know that the other person was up (usually me).
Lunch: Text and phone call to inform each other we're having lunch.
Afternoon: At least 3 texts and a phone call.
After school or work: One of us would call the other to let them know that we'll call them when we get home.
Dinner: text or phone call to inform each other we're having dinner.
Evening plans: text or phone call.
Bedtime: an hour long phone conversation at least.
As I'm typing this up, I'm judging my young self for being such a dumbass. Like seriously lady, calm the fuck down. I don't know how it happened but this smothering form of telecommunication snuck up on me and it became the norm. I don't how or why we both enabled this overbearing, vomit-inducing amount of phone calls and text messages, but we did. When we broke up, it was so tough to go cold turkey. It was like I was going through withdrawal of the worse kind.
Years later, I am now older, wiser and much better dressed and have successfully ween off that ridiculous amount of communication.
Why am I sharing this unfortunate story? Well because I did such a brilliant job of weening that I have come to realize that it's annoying and unhealthy.
These days, predictable or too much communication exasperates me. I cringe when I hear the sound of my text alerts (BBM is a different story *cheeky grin*) and have mini heart attacks when my phone rings. Just send me a tweet or an e-mail.
In my defense, I am a rather bubbly and friendly (most of the time) face to face. I will gladly chat with you over a pint of beer.
(DISCLAIMER: This does not apply to certain individuals.)
