We’ve all been there. A game has got you in its grasp and it’s not letting go. You play for hours, getting red-eyed and tired, only realising at 4am that you’ve got work tomorrow (today!) and you haven’t even eaten your tea yet. Five more minutes... and suddenly two hours have passed. You focus solely on the screen, everything else is merely a distraction, and you’ll do the washing up and feed the cat as soon as you... just finish... this level...

And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all need some special time alone with our gaming interface of choice. But if there’s a significant other getting annoyed in the background, trying to talk, or waiting for a bit of attention, or maybe even juggling flaming torches naked on a unicycle, then maybe it’s time to pause.

I don’t mean hit "pause" then turn to one’s beloved and demand "What?" whilst glancing impatiently at the screen. That would probably be counter-productive in this situation. I mean step back, metaphorically speaking, and objectively assess whether you’re devoting sufficient attention to your relationship. That’s something you have to decide for yourself, as every relationship is different. And whilst everyone needs time alone to indulge in leisure pursuits, couples also need to make time for each other. Hey, I’m not being discriminatory here - I’m sure you get the same tensions in polyamorous relationships, but presumably in that situation two of the partners spend time together whilst the third is busy with a console, possibly on a rota basis. Just guessing.

I digress. So. When was the last time your other half "tutted" at you? Did you deserve it or did you feel misunderstood? Did you leap from your chair and take them for a night out? Or did you feel a pang of guilt but still couldn’t tear yourself away? And did this "tut" result in a bout of cold-shoulder treatment, or was it a light-hearted "tut" that was followed by a cup of tea? You see, every "tut" can have all kinds of hidden depths and implications, you just need to understand them.

Dipping into personal experience, if I may, there have been evenings where I have spent hours glued to the internet, and my boyfriend has spent the same amount of time gaming. In the same room, but not exactly spending time together. A barbed comment (I forget the detail, it might even have been a "tut") at the end of one such evening sparked a conversation where I said I’d only been browsing the internet waiting for him to finish playing, and he said he’d only been playing until I finished on the internet. I secretly suspect that both of us were quite happy to entertain ourselves, but felt a bit un-hugged, and neither would take the blame for it.

If we could devise a scale of Relationship Resentment, from 1 (mildly miffed) to 10 (packing bags), I’d say the above incident would barely even register. The trick is to be aware of just how cheesed off your other half really is and react accordingly.

They have to be reasonable too - everyone knows (surely) that going out every other night, doing certain things like endangered bunny rabbits and so on is not a sustainable situation, but it’s fun while it lasts. Couples tend to settle into a comfortable routine, but it helps if you’re both aware of the gradual change, and that neither partner is getting bored.

If relationships didn’t change and evolve over time, things would get pretty stale and dull. But be aware that the changes you enjoy might be annoying your partner, and that compromise is also important. So for example, they might be happy to find their own things to do whilst you enjoy your brand new shiny game, but if it turns into an obsession that lasts for weeks, they might start to feel ignored. It could be time to tip the see-saw the other way and allow them a bit of indulgence. Feel free to use other playground-style analogies here to fit your own situation, like "swings and roundabouts", but slides probably wouldn’t make sense whatever your domestic set-up.

From another angle, maybe the gamer is the one who’s getting frustrated with the relationship, and is spending more and more time playing simply to escape. I’ll admit, I’ve done this, but I immersed myself in the internet instead. I felt guilty about it, but at least it gave me something to do whilst the relationship quietly withered away, which was what I wanted anyway. If you’re sure you want out, but you just don’t know how to start that horrible conversation - here’s a tip: "We need to talk" is too clichéd - then by all means deliberately be a crap partner in the hope that either they’ll dump you, or at least they won’t be too surprised when you tell them it’s all over.

No, wait, that was stupid advice, don’t do what I did. What would an agony aunt say? Oh yes. Stop burying your head in the sand and tackle your problems head-on. Got that? Good.

There’s always Scenario C, where both partners are keen gamers. The risks here are that either they’ll drift apart simply because they get increasingly drawn into their respective gaming lives, or that they’ll be in direct competition over who gets to play. OK, so that’s an argument I used to have with my little brother when I was ten, and I still don’t know what the most mutually satisfying solution is. Usually the console or PC technically belongs to one or the other and somehow retains that status. Do you ever really see couples arguing about who owns a saucepan? Or who bought the loo brush? Exactly, these are boring household items. But shiny toys somehow retain that invisible label that says, "MINE."

How you tackle this area of conflict would depend on the dynamics of your relationship - some couples talk, some couples have a rather dominant partner who simply decides, and some couples have a screaming row followed by passionate sex. Take your pick...

Every relationship has its quirks and foibles, gaming-related or not. Instead of trying to iron them out, it is probably more sensible to recognise them, work around them, and stop them turning into monsters. Gaming issues can’t break up a relationship unless you want them to, but sometimes they can act as handy indicators, an early warning system, or even a way to practise finding the middle ground with your partner.

If all else fails, you could always buy two consoles...