Poor poor fiance - what a palaver!

My poor, poor fiance.

We try to maintain a long distance relationship as he currently lives nearly 400 miles away from me. He contacted me on an internet site and we agreed that we would only be friends, as neither of us was looking to have a long distance romance.
We chatted every day online and he quickly became my closest friend. I was going through the worst possible time at work right then and I'm not sure I would have maintained my sanity (what there is of it) without his constant support. So eventually we agreed to meet up, of course, just as friends.
Well that premise lasted, um, about 5 minutes and we eventually gave in to being in love.

Now that's all fine and well, but like I said, we live nearly 400 miles apart. So until he sells up and moves, we have to try to cope with seeing each other a couple of times a month. We've become regulars at the airport (believe it or not, air travel is the cheapest option!) and keep in contact mostly, by webcam. (Now don't be rude - it's all very innocent.)

So we decided to start having weekly webcam 'dates'. Just for one day a week we meet online at a preset time and turn everything else OFF. No Facebook, no Bebo, no MSN, no emails etc etc etc. Just quality time devoted to each other to talk about what's happening in our lives, getting to know each other better. There is often a bit of gentle flirting and occasionally a glass of wine or two. And actually, it works. We really enjoy it and it's the nearest we can come to having a real date. We both feel pretty special afterwards and totally loved up.

Anyway. That's just a little background to put things into context for you.

Sadly this week our online date coincided with a small but not insignificant bout of PMT on my part. Now don't get me wrong - I really don't suffer too badly compared with other women I have heard about. Occasionally I get away with nothing at all, but this month reverted to the traditional 24hr being far too needy and insecure followed by 24hr recovering back to normality.
No raging tempers or angry outbursts, but it's bad enough.
We logged on at the appointed time.
It was great to see him, sitting there smiling at me, as usual.
We chat about our day and occasionally I see his eyes flicker to other parts of his screen and by mouse-clicks and typing, I surmise that he is not devoting his time entirely to me. Now this has happened before over the last couple of dates and I have previously made a mental note to myself to bring this up as something that we should sort out. I can't really actually complain, I have read the odd email and checked out facebook myself whilst he's talking to me.
He plays me a song that he thinks I'll like - which is a beautifully romantic gesture. And another. But whilst the song is playing through the speakers, we can't talk. So, sensibly, he uses the time to check emails and facebook. There's nothing in any way wrong with that.

But we are forgetting the wretched hormones which currently have control over my emotions and reasoning.
I really want to tell him to stop the music and ask him to pay me some attention, but even as the thought begins the form in my head I hear it and I know how utterly ridiculous it sounds. So I can't find the words to explain it in another way. And then the moment has passed and the unspoken thought is just sitting there, looming. Too big for me to express and still appear like a normal, reasonable, confident woman, as though my mouth just isn't big enough to form the words, but also too big for me to ignore. I end up feeling stupidly stuck between being annoyed with him and knowing how to talk to him about it without coming across as a total bunny-boiling lunatic. He puts another song on. I sit silently looking at the webcam. I can hear the 'ping' of his MSN announcing that one of his friends is chatting to him. I end up staring at the top of his head as he types his answers and biting down more anger.
And the silly thing is, the more angry I am with him, the angrier I get with myself for (a) feeling that way and (b) not being able to just spit it out and tell him. I know that mostly if it were not for the HormoneGestapo, I would be feeling just a little miffed and would have jokingly told him off.
But poor Hubby to be. He asks me what's wrong. (Why do I say nothing? There is something.) He asks "this hasn't been a very good date, has it?" and I shake my head, feeling hormonal tears threatening to make their presence known. He says he is going to bed and he'll call to say goodnight. (We always say our goodnights curled up in bed over the phone.)
I feel so terribly awful at this point. I communicate for a living - why I found this so difficult to talk about, I have no idea!

Luckily he is a good man. He isn't quick to anger and his patience always amazes me. He knows that there is something wrong and that if he gets me on the phone I am more likely to talk about it. So he gives me a little time to work out in my head how to tell him that I felt neglected and unloved. Then calls me and asks just enough questions in just the right tone of voice to get it all out in the open.
Trying to explain to him why I didn't just say something at the time was really hard and I don't know if he got it. Do men turn into hormone bags in the same way?
We laughed about how silly it was after we'd talked it through. We both agreed that if we are going to stop the distance getting in the way, we should keep our 'dates' special and devote time only to each other.
And then we talked and talked, about our hopes and dreams for the future.

Like I said, Poor poor fiance. What a palaver!