Sharing A Bed With My Ex
Breaking up without breaking a lease keeps two ex-lovers in one apartment.
When we were in the apartment together, it was all about careful avoidances of bodily contact, eyes not knowing where to look and one-word communications. Despite having a huge sectional sofa in our living room, we continued to sleep in the same bed. Ironically, this was easy compared to being awake. The bed was Switzerland—a conflict-free zone—where anything beyond sleeping was never initiated. We had been sharing a bed without having sex for so long before the breakup that keeping the status quo after it was easy.
Give it enough time and every breakup has its breakthrough. For Nathan and I, it happened on the couch. We had both just gotten home from work and were too exhausted to feel awkward or nervous or confused—and we just started talking. Pretty soon, we were on a virtual tour of our time together.
There was our initial flirtation in Chicago, during a trip we took for fun with coworkers. In Cape Cod, I had slain him at quarters and he'd rambled on about the ocean. We even laughed about our first real fight, when—in complete exasperation—I'd thrown the remote control against the wall. His reaction caught me off guard. "What is wrong with you?" he'd asked, his eyes laughing. His candor could always defuse me. (The remote control would survive, with help from duct tape.)
During the weeks following the breakthrough, relations improved considerably, making it easy to drag our feet on the apartment hunt. We fell into our old habits: taking turns making dinner, talking about our days, going off for random walks in the park. Suddenly, we were friends again but not quite back together. Socially, we hung out separately, only to meet each other at a corner bar later in the night before heading home.
Our newfound easiness made me rationalize staying together. We had it pretty good, after all: an affordable apartment, years of cultivating inside jokes. Nathan was completely devoted to me, pulled his own weight financially and had bottomless patience. Our living together for six months after the breakup made me remember the man I was giving up. Here was the friend I first fell for years ago. Maybe we were worth a second shot.
Fate thought otherwise. By April, we still hadn't told our landlord about our intention to move out, and we talked about sticking it out until September when our lease would end. But a visit from the landlord preempted our plans to procrastinate. He told us he'd gotten a new job in San Francisco and would be moving his family there by midsummer. The brownstone was for sale.
Discussion
Wow, I'm on board there mclv. You guys need to chill. This is a past event that I imagine has had TREMENDOUS benefits to both of them. There isn't just one type of love, one way to love someone. They took their chance at a relationship and discovered that they have a really loving friendship. It happens. I give these two huge kudos for what they did. Circumstance dictated that they stay living together, and eventually they chose to work through the issues. Yes, they rediscovered why they fell for each other in the first place, but they also cemented the reasons they couldn't stay together. That is real love, not some sappy, selfish,, silver screen love that denies reality. There is still love there, but it has evolved into something else. If they chose to try again, despite knowing why they won't ultimately work together, then it becomes selfish and self-sabotaging. Sometimes, when you really love someone, you understand that no matter what you do or what you try, things may not always work out. Love just isn't always enough. When you truly do love that person, when it isn't selfish and you understand that eventually one of your needs won't be met, and not just base needs but something really important like your dreams, you understand that holding on is just selfish and will only cause pain down the road. You understand that those wants will only hold the other person back, or yourself, from what you realy want despite your best intentions. Your only choice is to let them go because you love them...really love them.
Only once so far have I been with someone that I said to myself in all honesty, in a simple but all powerful knowing akin to knowing that fire burns, that I could marry her and be completely happy. I was there, and I know she wanted to be there, but she wasn't there yet. Her dreams of what she wanted to become, and her past issues that she was finally ready to address, were in the way of what I wanted. I had to let her go when she asked me to, and by letting her go I cut nearly all ties with her, which pained me like you wouldn't believe. I did it because I know that she is a serial monogamist. She hadn't spent more than a month single since she became sexually active. Now she was ready to begin her relationship with herself. There were nights that we almost did go back home together, that I could have had that bittersweet moment...but I knew it would unravel everything she was trying to do. We are still good friends. She is now in Australia, living her dream. Yes, she is with someone else, someone who is great for her. And, in all honesty (and why would I lie to you all, none of you know me personally) I am truly happy for her. I know that I could have kept her here, kept her from the life that she dreamed of having. That isn't how I choose to love someone. I choose for my love to help someone be free to do all that they dream...not be bound by my desires.
Why are people so judgmental? As if this is what she is doing right now? It was something that happened, she cannot change, and maybe she learned from it. as for "Do you know how many men end up overweight, miserable and boring beyond repair? Sounds like a perfectly good answer to me." The point was possibly that he didn't see her in his future. He only had an image of himself 20 years down the road. Of course it's not a good answer if you're thinking about marrying someone. Or even just maintaining a relationship with someone.
I don't think i (or most people) ever could have done this. If you really love someone, but know you shouldn't be together, living together isn't going to help you move on. And what would have happened if one of you met "the one" during that time? Maybe you did and missed out because you were too busy being "best friends" with your ex.
