Case study: long distance limerence

Another case study post today, all about the problems of long-distance limerence, or perhaps, in fact, the problems of long-distance uncertainty.

Here’s the dilemma from reader Laura:

LO and I were in a relationship for two years, although on and off. There were some problems, but we were aware of this and communicated openly and were vulnerable about it.

Unfortunately, he had to return to his home country and that’s when he became an LO for me. It was horrible, impossible to escape. We pushed and pulled each other for a year and a half. Wanted to break up because things were in general not working out, but we just repeatedly couldn’t. So we added a bunch of uncertainty on top of it all ourselves.

After wrestling with this limbo state for a while, Laura came to realise that the long distance limerence was not going to resolve itself. Eventually, they admitted defeat.

We are now separated but the physical distance still plays a part in my LE. He has another girlfriend now, but even this is not enough for me to feel there is no chance. Secretly I still feel that what we had was special and that if the distance wasn’t there all would be different.

So, despite the best attempts to make it work, and despite recognising that they were fighting a slow defeat, Laura’s limerence has not gone away. Even though she is clear in her mind that she wants to “recover and grow for herself”.

I don’t think that Laura is looking for advice about the relationship, and she wisely doesn’t want to get caught up in psychoanalysing the behaviour of her LO. Instead:

I would love to read about how doing long distance, without a clear finish line, can add to the limerence.

That last comment about “no clear finish line” is probably the heart of this story. The thread throughout all of Laura’s experience is uncertainty. I’ve written before about how it may be the limerent’s Achilles’ heel, and long-distance limerence is an ideal scenario for triggering it. Almost every aspect of the situation will exacerbate limerence. It’s like a terrible perfect storm.

Let’s work through some of the worst ways that distance can amplify limerence.

1. The relationship was already uncertain

From Laura’s account, it seems that the relationship with LO was already somewhat uncertain, even before separation triggered a worsening of her limerence pain.

This uncertainty could have been the usual ups and down of different expectations around what love should feel like, or clashes of attachment style or any of the many other possible incompatibilities that make the path of love rocky.

Alternatively, the problems may have been more serious, and the relationship might not have ended up being viable in the long-term. As I put it before, sometimes love takes work, but it shouldn’t be a labour of Hercules. Sometimes it is wise to give up.

The crucial factor in Laura’s case, though, is that she didn’t get to find out naturally. There was no opportunity to properly resolve any issues they were facing as a couple, before he had to move away.

They didn’t get to choose.

They didn’t get a chance to give it their best shot.

2. The distance was an enforced barrier

That reality meant that the distance between them wasn’t a decision that they’d made, it was a barrier enforced by circumstances.

The consequence is that the uncertainty already existing in the relationship got set into place, like it was pickled in aspic.

Having important life choices taken out of our hands is always distressing and demoralising. It makes you feel like you are not in charge of your fate, that forces are working against you, and that you are being robbed of opportunities you might have wanted to seize.

That’s a psychologically potent mix of emotions – anger, anxiety, fear, loss, insecurity, injustice – which stir up the subconscious and won’t give you peace. Depending on your personality, this could provoke different responses – from despair at the unfairness, to bloody-minded determination to fight back.

Or you might oscillate back and forth between these options, not knowing what you really want to do.

3. Purposeful action is difficult

Uncertainty that is outside of your control is hard to respond to purposefully. In Laura’s case, there are some grand actions that could theoretically be undertaken to try and resolve the situation, but they are high stakes and certainly impractical – her moving to his country, him applying for leave to return to hers, them getting married to tie their fates together.

To make a change as decisive as that you’ve got to both be sure that you really want the outcome.

In reality, they just wanted to see if things would work out long-term. They weren’t at the “our love will not be denied” stage of bonding, and busily planning the future together. It’s very hard at that point to make intelligent, purposeful choices about whether you should fight against the enforced separation and keep hope alive, or accept that this is the end of something that just didn’t work out.

But that indecision becomes another source of frustration and irritation. Your subconscious turmoil is not going to be calmed by inaction. You want to do something.

“Fatalistically let everything slowly unravel” is hardly an inspiring rallying cry.

4. A loose end in your life story

The subconscious mind – that part where limerence lives – thinks in stories. Stories have narrative momentum. They demand resolution, and hate loose ends. Love affairs are not supposed to just peter out.

This sense of unfinished business will nag at the subconscious. The inability to get closure is an irritant – especially when external circumstances caused the problem.

It’s like you don’t know how the story was supposed to end, because someone ripped out the last few pages of a book. Now, you have to try and imagine what it would have been.

Another factor here is how your past has shaped your own perception of your life narrative. If anxious attachment wounds lie in your past, this episode might become another painful abandonment story. If previous betrayals still haunt you, then LO getting a new girlfriend might damage your pride and trigger old insecurities.

The fact that you didn’t get to resolve the story yourself will set off your subconscious on an attempt to make sense of the narrative, based on your previous patterns and beliefs.

What to do?

Laura has actually already figured out what she wants to do. Intellectually, she can see that the relationship didn’t survive the separation, that LO is looking to move on, and that she wants the same for herself.

Unfortunately, limerence doesn’t listen to reason.

The challenge – as always with limerence – is getting your emotions to go along with your intellect.

I think there are two big steps that can help.

First, accept that closure is an illusion. Perfect endings don’t exist, and life is never a neat calculation of pluses and minuses. That frees you to find closure in making decisions by yourself. You have decided that this period of your romantic life is coming to an end and are going to take the necessary steps to make yourself well again.

The second step is to compose a new story to finally quiet the psychic itch of those loose ends. Laura gets to be the author of her own destiny, but if it were me, my rewriting would probably be something along the lines of:

This was the relationship that taught me about limerence, about the pain of uncertainty, and about my personal vulnerabilities. It was an important episode in my life, but the episode is over now. He and I are moving on, wiser, and toughened a little by fate. I’m glad I got to learn those lessons.

Placate your subconscious that the story does make sense, it isn’t unfinished – it just took a twist in the plot that you weren’t expecting at first. There is a logic to the narrative, and the experiences that you had.

And, most importantly of all, the journey is still ongoing, with many adventures ahead…