Three more sleeps, we text each other across the miles. It's been 30 degrees in England and 13 here - this morning is foggy and frosty, the drive into work being a pale white shot through with headlights. On Sunday I'll be cautiously driving up this highway in the dark, on the way to Melbourne Airport to meet Jamie when he comes off his long haul flight via Dubai from Heathrow. We'll suffer through a little awkwardness whilst we readjust to being together, and him to jetlag and being home again.

Last time it was three weeks apart, and we swore we'd never do it again. This time it's been six. Having responsiblity toward family in separate hemispheres, separate countries, is difficult. It requires you to be an adult.

And who needs co-dependency?

When we were yoounger we used to scoff at relationships we judged to be co-dependent. How pathetic, we believed, to depend so much on another person that the edges of yourself begin to dissolve.

I've seen relationships where jealous men prevent girl's nights out, or woman rush home to cook men dinner despite having busy lives themselves. I've seen marriages where one person's emotional needs are put far above the other. I've seen men fall apart when their wives leave them because they're incapable of looking after themselves.

But Co-Dependency is Not Always a Dirty Word

But 'dependency' is part of a marriage. I should be able to depend on him, and him on me.

We try to be reasonably self-sufficient; we respect each other's boundaries and give each other space to be ourselves.

I'm still fiercely - and probably irrationally - determined to do things by myself. I get intensely irritated when he steps in to help me with a lot of things, as if I'm not capable. That's his desire to protect and nurture me - an urge he struggles to curb in the face of my fierceness.

Six weeks apart and I am reminded how much we are dependent on each other - the snuggles to sooth at the end of a bad day, the mechanical issues with the car, the bills, the groceries. We have our roles. Doing them on your own is harder. It's nice to share the load. And those cuddles release a fair whack of oxy.

It's something to celebrate, after so many years together - a strong bond and commitment to each other, the emotional support and stability involved, the deep care and compassion for each other where we feel nurtured and valued.

We don't always get it right, but our partnership is always about balance - we can't compromise personal wellbeing and autonomy, but it must be balanced with caring for each other.

Three more sleeps.