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The question

I am currently in a long-distance relationship, planning on getting married in July. I have agreed to give up my job and sell my house, which I am still in the process of finishing – having started an extensive renovation just before we met – and move 600 kilometres north to be with her. I have no doubts about our relationship and love her and am confident that she loves me back. On my last trip up there she told me she was stressed out because we were moving too fast, that she just wants me to be there with her and she's not sure she is ready to get married. She also told me she isn't even sure what she is stressed out about. I don't understand, I am the one who is risking everything I have worked for over the last 10 years. In my mind I am the one who should be stressed, and oddly enough I'm not. I don't know what else to tell her to try and assuage her fears.

The answer

There's nothing you can say that would change anything. But you're making me nervous – because it doesn't seem like you appreciate the gravity of your situation.

You're stuck between a rock and, 600 kilometres away, a hard place, and I don't think you realize it.

Let's break it down. You have two choices: 1) long-distance relationship, 2) pull up stakes, quit job, sell half-renovated house, and move in with girlfriend.

Now, I've never been a fan of the long-distance relationship. I believe, more than anyone, in geographical proximity culminating in co-habitation. Nothing soothes the jangled recesses of my soul more than hearing my wife stirring and snoring softly next to me.

These days I guess that makes me a little old-fashioned. Recently a friend was telling me about her exciting new relationship with some dude who lives thousands of kilometres away, in another country.

They were "sexting," she explained. And it was, she said, "the best sex I've ever had."

To which I had nothing to say except: "Wait – what?" Because isn't sexting really just – actually, I don't even want to finish that sentence. I'm a caveman that way, I guess. I want my mate in my cave with me, snuggling under the same sabre-toothed tiger-skin.

But in your case, sir, I would advise continuing your long-distance relationship a little longer.

Consider the following scenario – and I've seen it play out like this a few times now: X and Y live together in place Z. Y gets a job offer in (say) Brisbane, Australia. X quits job so Y can pursue glorious career opportunity and they move to Australia together.

Two years later X still hasn't found meaningful work in Brisbane and is struggling and dependent financially and emotionally on Y, who has tons of new friends from work.

One day Y looks at X and thinks: "What a loser, why did I marry X in the first place?" And they split up.

Not fair, but as they say: Let's go find whoever told you life would be fair and beat the crap out of them.

You risk that scenario and worse. Especially since you seem almost willfully to be misreading the signals your girlfriend is throwing at you.

"I'm stressed we're moving too fast" and "I'm not sure we should be getting married" are red flags that you're treating like checkered flags.

It breaks my heart. I hate to be this guy. But she's not exactly waving you in, pal.

Love is a necessary but not sufficient prerequisite for lifelong togetherness and happiness. There also has to be willingness to commit.

And she just doesn't sound ready. Consulting my crystal ball, I can almost give you my patented Damage Control Absofreakinlute Guaranfriggintee™ it'll unfold something like this:

You quit job, sell house, and move up there. She continues to vacillate and prevaricate and starts saying she feels "pressured" and "suffocated" and then one day you'll blow your stack and say: "I pulled up stakes and threw away everything I'd worked toward for 10 years for you and now you do this to me?"

And you wind up breaking up, with you feeling bereft and bitter.

Listen to her signals, continue your renovation, stay in your job, and keep making that 600-klick commute until you hear something more definitive like "Baby I can't live without you and I want to get married."

Then and only then swoop in, with suitcases and all the rest of your baggage, and start to get to work on your "happily ever after."

Are you in a sticky situation? Send your dilemmas to damage@globeandmail.com. Please keep your submissions to 150 words and include a daytime contact number so we can follow up with any queries.

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