In the dating app world, long distance lovers are the new normal

Illustration by Shruti Naithani | ThePrint

You know what the internet was really made for? For long-distance couples to fall asleep on video calls, harmonising their snores. Call it cringe or peak intimacy, but this is the reality of modern romance. It’s shaped by dating apps that match hearts across pin codes and a world where love is always in transit for study, jobs, and even fancier jobs. It’s inevitable. Traffic means even Ghaziabad girlies dating studs of Saket are braving it.

And yes, LDRs are the OG catalyst for cheating. Love and distance are a deadly recipe to flare up insecurities. But it’s not fair to go straight to the Achilles’ Heel. We’ve seen the delicious Imran Khan and Deepika Padukone dancing to Dooriyan Bhi Hain Zaroori. A decade later, Gen Z is adding more nuance to it.

Distance may or may not make the heart grow fonder, but it sure extends the talking stage. Separated by kilometres, these romantics clock in hours on FaceTime and send each other selfies as status updates of even a mundane Tuesday. Even describing the colour and texture of their morning stool. Some stay connected via content—binging Netflix shows on co-watching apps like Teleparty and Rave. The market knows their desperation, so it enables them with more advanced tools. Ever heard of a HugShirt? It’s a device with sensors that detects your hug and sends that data (warmth, heartbeat, pressure) to your partner’s shirt in another city or country. It’s…a choice. A tad bit mental.

Whoever accused Gen Z of lacking patience hasn’t interviewed long-distance couples—lucky for you, I have. They are predictably frustrated but soldiering through petty fights, expensive flight tickets and constant FOMO. A couple, together for a decade, hasn’t been to a single beach together. A friend at work is perpetually seething over the endless parties her boyfriend attends at ISB (Indian School of Business, better known as the Indian School of Breakups). But the lover boy is good at reassuring his girlfriend so they’ve never actually ended things. Meanwhile, a Mumbai-Bengaluru couple stays logged into each other’s Instagram accounts to sniff out any suspected third-party threats to their long-distance utopia. It’s not a lack of trust—it’s called digital intimacy, hotter with disclosed passwords.

Benefits of distance

The LDR subreddit has daily entries by tormented lovers, asking for advice on how they can get more involved in their partner’s life from miles away. Most content creators are busy pushing blanket statements—long-distance relationships are a scam. They don’t work. Others say it can work if you plan on closing the gap eventually. Always have a trip planned in the near future, don’t let more than a month go by without an IRL meetup. But god forbid you prioritise love over career—suddenly, you’re a cautionary tale. Almost nobody recommends getting into an LDR, even the winners who end up getting married. Some, of course, toe the commitment line by acting single when their partner’s out of sight. Those whining about “needing space” in an already long-distance relationship rile up Twitter timelines. I hope Brother Elon takes pity and blasts them off in one of his space toys.

Then there’s a whole other breed—the ones whose relationships only survive because of the distance. Once these couples start breathing the same air, they implode.

A 25-year-old engineer endured five years of long-distance whiplash—three spent in college on opposite ends of the world (Chennai and London), and two working remotely from their hometowns (Chandigarh and Delhi). Then came the much-needed honeymoon period when they were finally under the same roof in Hyderabad. Big mistake. The girlfriend suddenly found herself giving up her quiet crochet weekends for the boyfriend’s endless social engagements and “unbearable quality time” watching Max Verstappen win yet another F1 race. The delusion wore off within a year, and it was a messy breakup. Title of their love story? Bade acche lagte hain…bas door se. 

The tragedy of LDRs is only softened by the sickly sweet stories of those who somehow aced the art of loving from miles away. They develop interesting coping mechanisms. It even melts cynical hearts. Like the woman who sleeps with her boyfriend’s unwashed T-shirt to keep his scent around, or the guy who wears a watch engraved with their initials on days he misses her a little extra. A friend scripts Reels months in advance, waiting for the day she can finally shoot them with her boyfriend.

Not to brag, but someone did the sincerest—and the most bizarre—thing for me when we were apart. He kept my broken nail in his pocket for days after I left his city. A relic of long-distance love, preserved in lint.

Views are personal.

(Edited by Theres Sudeep)