Since this topic - which I think I raised twice before- generated great discussion, I will give it one more go.

I am in the midst of the flu. The boys and I have had several ugly days and uglier nights of coughing and attempting to unblock what feel like permanently congested nostrils, necessitating breathing from the mouth which only further adds to the discomfort of a very sore throat?

Of course there are the bouts of high fever and the heaviness of a body so lethargic and full of aches and pains it warrants a lot of prior thought before attempting to move even a few paces!

Yet in the middle of this, I want to talk about online relationships again. Let's not get fixated on the moral aspects of whether those caught up are alone or partnered this time. Forget any peripheral others. Also forget the flu, I'll have something to say about this debacle another time. I want to talk about the little things, the differences which may go by unnoticed or may surface after specific circumstances and... surprise one?

Like the flu for instance - okay it warrants mention briefly again only because - in a real relationship, one's other would be sitting alongside and reading aloud Keats or even some Shakespearean sonnets, after first delivering a mug of hot peppermint tea? Yeah, a small exaggeration, but they'd be there... to get the throat lozenges and the paracetamol and maybe, maybe hold your hand? They'd risk getting the flu because they'd know, were roles switched, you'd do the same. Be there.

Virtually, you get "Sorry to hear, hope you feel better soon." Or "Poor baby, you need to rest up more," followed by silence because they don't want to bear the brunt of your discomfort and your slightly delusional fever-induced mumblings. It's like a version of "How are you is a statement, not a question." Sometimes the "I am here" is added as reassurance but that only means "You can dump your hallucinations in my message box, just don't expect a response."

Because they're not here, they're someplace else and life goes on for them uninterrupted by your ailments or dilemmas. You trudge alone and you end up cursing this fact, all the while understanding the role distance plays and even - even berating yourself for wanting more?

And then there's everyday life itself. You are told where your online other is but you only have their word. Short of having a drone follow their movements (and this may happen all too soon given the explosion of virtual relationships - and drones) you only have their word, and you believe this. "Sorry have to go run some errands, catch up later," is assumed as literal. Though it could well be a host of other things: You caught them in the middle of a movie or sharing time with family/friends or just not plain in the mood for conversation?

Real others however don't have this luxury. They can't up and go in the middle of a face to face conversation unless some vital and very valid reason like an emergency arises. Brave be the one who suddenly remembers they have errands to run in the middle of coffee and a discussion about spending more time together!

The little, little things. Like their favourite colour. Now you could come out and ask this online but somehow the opportunity never presents itself because you are too busy exchanging endearments and playing catch-up on the times between catch-ups? There is selectivity in any pictures exchanged and any backgrounds your other is exposed to, so again, you know only what you are told or shown. Your real one however would have signs everywhere; you'd never have to ask: Their clothes, their car choice and their home décor; evidence of their favourite colour would naturally surround them?

My favourite flower! This one came to me because I abhor cut flowers (as in bouquets) but I adore fields of them, especially wildflowers in the springtime. My favourite blooms however are sunflowers; sitting among the top ten items in my bucket list is the desire to stand within a field of sunflowers and patiently watch them turning their magnificent heads to the rising sun.

My online other would not know this unless I chose to disclose it. Yet a few minutes in my home and there'd be solid evidence - from the large and bold prints, to the treasured Van Gogh reproduction (also on the bucket list of must see items) and even the tea-towel draped over the oven door. My real other would also note the absence of cut flowers or presently empty vases.They'd get it the first time they tried to buy me a single rose in a restaurant - if all the other clues evaded them.

So many little things! Unimportant when pitted against the great emotions and intellectual discourse flying back and forth yet one pauses - as I did - and wonders if these little things are not in fact much more significant than one supposes? Trouble is, as I said earlier, you don't know what you don't know; since the only tangible things you hold are those you are told - assuming they are also true? Put more simply, there is a certain intimacy lacking. I am not talking physical intimacy here; I am talking about the environment within which two 'real people' operate, versus the selective and oft manufactured environment of online relationships.

Skype all you want, but you won't pick up or create intimacy because you can bet those minutes spent skyping, you both want to look and sound the best you can. Little things won't surface. Like the way you twirl your hair when stressed or the way you frown at the mirror to see how much deeper the crows-feet have become since you last checked. (I won't go into personal hygiene and other habits, these I will leave to you to ponder on.)

So an online relationship is somewhat stylised and sanitised and conducted in a more controlled environment? There is ample room to manoeuvre, more opportunity to abscond if desired and certainly, less bothersome behaviours exhibited overall. I could be sitting here in my pink robe, un-showered for two days and be writing my other, "Just hopping in the shower," and that would be assumed a fact. Never mind I have no intention of doing that and want instead to continue reading my current book, or finish writing a piece I was in the middle of when interrupted.

There is no guilt. This astounded me. No obligation. Another unexpected blow. It is much easier to just plead any excuse and go, this without remorse? Your online other has no clue as to your level of motivation, nor your near-future intentions or even your exact current whereabouts. Yes, through time, people develop 'tells', verbal and other signs which then become patterns and allow some forward vision. We are creatures of habit, after all.

So you sense over time the precise moment a getaway is going to emerge, or the moment you've overstepped some boundary, or the moment you have said exactly the right thing (BIG LOL). Cycles also form, and as you move through each one, you begin to understand your other's states of mind and yes, gut instinct kicks in, allowing you to anticipate moods and expected behaviours. Hmmm.

I have been worrying over these little things however. Assuming them important, perhaps vital in sustaining any relationship?

Funny thing is I watched a short explanatory video about the changes in our brain chemistry brought about by social media, only yesterday. Apparently our brains are being rewired to accommodate for this presence and our interactions within it?

http://writerscircle.com/social-media-brain/

Surprisingly, research has shown that couples meeting online for the first time have a better chance at a lasting relationship over those who don't? This occupied my mind for quite some time because it pretty much negates all of the above. But then, I understood. Of course!

Emotions and words and emotions and words... no arguments of any significance, no pettiness, the ease of coming and going as one pleases, no guilt, no pressure to be, no obligations other than you spare some time which is oft gratefully accepted and releases enough dopamine to forget the silences in-between... Online you never see the little things - else you see them after you are somewhat attached?

Online is also secondary to the reality of offline, therefore it is reserved for romance and dreams and fantasies and all the other stuff daily grind does not afford opportunity for. So you get to know your other without their minor incongruities and annoying habits and the small things that were you to be exposed to daily for any prolonged time, might seem annoying and... a deterrent?

Those therefore who succeed in transferring themselves from the virtual to the real -  intact - would be as rare as those who marry and stay committed for a lifetime - offline.

Online you exchange your best. Or if it must at times be your worst, you get to control the situation; how this is exposed and how effectively you can convert it to something not so bad. And everything is distorted or rather under-delivered? "You hurt me..." and a sad emoticon do not have the same impact as those words whispered into eyes held fast to your own - which are brimming with tears. "I feel for you," does not have the same impact as an arm thrown around dejected shoulders? Intimacy.

Little things. Are they necessary; are they extraneous to the bigger picture? Does one really need to know the same things online as one does offline? You do hear constantly of the increasing success rate of virtual relationships converting to real ones. What I am trying to discover is... how many fail? You never hear about this, funny enough. There are neither similar studies nor any statistical evidence and cute videos to show how many online relationships go bust.

My bet is they'd be similar to real life; most of them dying very quickly and some ebbing off more slowly over time. I say this because those little things do matter. The good ones, along with the... uh... not so pleasant ones - what I called intimacy earlier?

We are pushed to embrace and accept this new form of relationship-building. And very few of us have or will escape the inevitable: Finding a love online. 15 or 55, the chances of discovering your first 'real love' in a virtual environment almost outweigh those in your real world these days. Yet. It niggles. Those little things... If more and more 'relationships' begin - and most then end - virtually, what is this doing to our brains? Are we being re-wired to be less intimate?

In a fast-paced world where work by necessity comes first, are we grabbing brief episodes of dopamine-inducing behaviours and are we calling this love? No different to the scheduled series of 'dates' in real life, brief interludes where we feel some respite from the grudge. And when our real other becomes part of this grudge, do we then seek respite online because it is less intimate and more easily accessible?