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4.5 years ago I was dancing with Eleanor in Caledon. It was an odd dance and people didn't seem to be mixing much so after a while of talking between ourselves we left and went about our business.
I was quite surprised then to get a tap at my virtual window from a virtual stranger. He had been at the dance, seen me there and thought he should introduce himself.

The rest is history and I have recorded it all before now. Mark has now come twice to visit me in Oz. And now I have, stored electronically, my tickets to  visit him.

It's pretty darn exciting.

Any other mention of a trip to the UK and I would be planning to see castles and museums. This time? Well if I happen to wander amongst some history while I am there, it will be the marshmallows on my hot chocolate.

After building a friendship-turned-romance on the internet, over so many years, I have to say the distance factor is driving me crazy. And I do get concerned that it is more than a hyperbole when I use that expression. It is so hard!

We sit with headsets on for hours. Sometimes my ears almost beg me not to. And sitting staring at the screen when you work at a monitor all day? Not the activity of first preference.

Sitting for hours with words swirling through your head and no presence, there are misunderstandings. And there is the other-side-of-the-world thing where he is falling asleep just as I am struggling to wake. 

So what next? How to move on from here? Well the Ozzie government doesn't recognise this as a relationship. I don't really blame them, but cripes it makes it difficult. To bring Mark here, I have to promise to marry him within 7 months of his arrival. That's if he wants to work. 
And he is proud.
He wants to work

And I guess that would be on the lists of reasons why I am willing to risk it all again.

And so we talk about it. How. When. How. When. 
Back and forth.
And the sad thing is that to be together, there's just the one choice.

Sometimes I am terrified. I have been married. It terrifies me to be put in the position of trusting someone again. On a bad day, marriage looks like a trap, solitary confinement.

One regular issue of contention: calls to work place. Neither past tense nor current partner respond well to an impromptu call. I have never had the luxury of building a habit of wasting their time, so I don't understand why neither would/will receive my calls with a hint of pleasure. My job is stressful. My phone rings all day long. The demands on my attention are not insignificant, but it pleases me to hear Mark's voice enough to be distracted from these things. Enough to make it a desirable event. A happily anticipated one. (Is this a man thing?)

And so I feel bars of the trap inching around me. Where I am literally on call, but can not reach out myself.

The trouble with this 'internet' relationship: Too much thinking. Too much talking. Plenty of things said that can be taken the wrong way, given too much importance. And then sorted. And reconciled. And that is where the phone-calls-at-work struggle sits - In the reconciled basket -but I am so ready to move beyond this.

We have had so little time being together. And yet have spent more time together than any couple I know of. I know what Mark's intentions are. I know that he is completely unselfish in his desire for me to be happy. We are actually, quite devoted to each other :)

(Mushy alert)

In the three weeks we had together in January, our happiness in being together was as crystal clear and as bright as the Australian January days were. Being together. Doing together. That kind of happiness is worth marrying for!! So we are working our way forward.

And I am waiting now for the next step in this very slow journey - 93 days the counter says. Doesn't matter what kind of summer the Poms put on for me, I think it will be bright and sunny.