Making love by telephone

No, I'm not going to write about phone sex. Not that it isn't good, but that's another story. One I probably won't tell.

I had a long distance relationship when I was in high school. It was consuming and powerful, and it tore me into pieces, but I was a child. I didn't really understand what love was then. It was also a very inconsistent relationship, and consisted mostly of love letters that made promises my 16 year old brain could not really wrap itself around. Promises that I'm sure really were never intended to be kept. There were phone calls, but I waited for them, never quite knowing when they would be received. My parents were not keen on long distances charges, and I have always had this weird phobia of picking up the phone and calling people, anyway.

So, that long distance love experience did not prepare me in any way for the situation that I am in now. One where my whole life revolves around the schedule of phone calls. The times when both of us can make time for each other and make this separation bearable.

Our love began over an innocent half hour lunch, and bloomed by email and then exploded during an earth shattering 24 hour phone call (ok, there were a few hours of break during that 24 hour span, but not much). And now, all we have in between our (usually) monthly weekends together, are those phone calls.

Our work schedules make the calls convenient. An hour in the morning, during his commute. A half hour at lunch time, 20 minutes after work during my commute. And, then right before bed, until we are both about to fall asleep. And, so go my days. Like a junkie, waiting for the next fix. A few more calls scattered here and there, depending on when both of us have our children. Sometimes we are more free to waste hours on the phone.

But, how much longer will I have to endure this? I will take what I can get, but my body aches for the physical closeness. To lay in bed and talk until we fall asleep together, not with a phone pressed to my ear.