Do you need more space in your relationship? Or does your partner want more space? The need for space in love can be frustrating for both partners, but in reality, it can actually be very good for the relationship, and for both of you as individuals.
Here’s a story about space and getting too clingy in love, and why respecting space in relationships and helping each other grow is so important in love.
Men are usually the ones who complain about their woman getting clingy, but what happens when the tables get reversed? Noah Wilhelmsen confesses his own stint as a clingy guy, when that was the last thing he actually wanted to be.
Clingy guys? Now what’s that you may ask? Really, do they even make them these days? They don’t come every day, but when they do come along, they usually find a girl who loves her own independence. I believe in space, not so much that I’d want to hum “Always the last to know” by Del Amitri when I hear something about my girlfriend from a community site, but just a good fresh bit.
I’d like it if we speak once a day, probably late at night, where we can talk about each other’s day and drop into bed with happy giddy thoughts. I’ve been dating a very special girl since the past few months. We met at a conference, and we hit it off almost immediately. I drove her back home, exchanged numbers on the way, and she loved my CD collection. Now, that’s chemistry for dummies, don’t you think?
Both of us lead busy lives, and we call each other after dinner every night, and catch up about once a week. It was great, lightning struck in the chords of our hearts each time we met, she giggled like a first dater, and I charmed her like a third dater. We were a happy couple.
I didn’t ask her out, we just kissed and skipped that step. Every day we missed each other. But we didn’t call each other up. I asked her about it one time.
Why wouldn’t we call each other up more often if we missed each other so much? Apparently, when you miss someone during the day, you sit down and smile thinking about that person for a few minutes, and then you get back to work. That way, you actually know how special that person is to you, and at the same time, you don’t spoil the moment. That was her idea. I could never get that, but I was fine to play by the rules.
Last week, I called my girl up. We chatted late after dinner, and after we replenished the hugs, love and kisses, we hung up all drenched in love. Bliss! And then, a few minutes later, I got her call again. That was freaking awesome! She missed me so much that she called me back. That’s what I thought at first. But apparently, she had forgotten to tell me that she couldn’t speak to me for the next two days as she had to be with her best pal who was getting married in a couple of days, and she was staying over at her friend’s place.
Awww…. I was going to miss not speaking to her. She told me that she’d miss me a lot too. Half an hour later, we hung up. All drenched in chocolaty love. But. There was something uncomfortable in the air. And then, there was this drum roll too. I was not going to speak to my girlfriend for 48 hours. Or was that more than 48 hours? I didn’t know the details, so it left me troubled. I fell asleep and our love story wove in and out of my dreams that night.
I woke up in the morning and stretched out to a morning hardy boy. I was missing her and her touch. I looked at my cell phone and stared at her name. To call or not to call. That was the question. Pros and cons? Pros, I missed her. Cons, she told me she’d be busy. Cons win. I wait. I wait here.
I head out to work and I work. And her laugh comes seeping in straight through the clouds, along with the rays of sunlight through my window. I miss her more. I pick up her pen from my drawer, the one I nicked the last time we went out for dinner. A nice, pastel one. I brought it close to my lips, kissed it discreetly, pretended I was deeply and philosophically in thought, and then sniffed it. Somehow, that pen brought back memories of her Rock ‘N Rose by Valentino. I couldn’t stop wondering what she was wearing, out there in the wild, at a wedding celebration.
Lunch time. Did she have lunch? Weddings are busy affairs, what if she hadn’t? She might get a headache. I didn’t call. Cons won again. By evening, I was fighting an internal war. I didn’t care if Cons won. Who invented Pros and Cons anyways? I decided to call her. And I did. She answered, and I don’t think I could have appreciated her pleasant voice more anytime before.
We spoke and love was drizzling again. She missed me too, and now the rain of love was slowly getting stronger and wetter. She told me that she wished she was the bride. With her friend’s guy? What?! Oh okay, she wanted to get married to… pause… pause… me! Va va voom! Hubba Hubba.
Now, we’re talking happy thunderstorms of love. I hung up after a good ten minutes, and got back to work. What was I thinking anyways? Not wanting to call her? Of course, women just say such things right? It’s not like they mean them. It was all a test, I had heard such things before. Women lay down some boundary conditions in love, and wait and see if the guy would overstep it, which then becomes a cute awww moment.
I called her one more time after dinner. She cancelled my call, and called me back after a few minutes. She was all happy and giddy too. We spoke for almost an hour, and I sank into my bed, all wet with love. I woke up the next morning, all thirty two teeth out in the open and my lips curled upwards. Suffered a bit of a lockjaw cramp. Made up my mind not to smile like an idiot as soon as I wake up. Relax and loosen muscles first.