Break up

About two years ago, I started dating a really great guy. Some of you know him, he used to post here as SolGrundy. For both of us, it was our first serious relationship ever. Which is surprising, for two guys in their thirties. Denial will do that to you. We’d both been alone for a long time. I used to joke that I was so desperate, the only thing I was looking for in a partner was consent. Consequently, I was pretty amazed to find myself in love with such an amazing guy. We had a huge amount in common. We never fought. We got along great with each other’s friends. My parents adored him. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect match.

Tonight, we broke up.

We’ve both known the relationship was dead for at least a year, but neither of us had the balls to do anything about it. We were both too scared. Of hurting the other person. Of never seeing each other again. Of being alone. At some point, we just stopped talking, because the only thing either of us could think to say was, “This isn’t working anymore,” and neither of us was brave enough to say it first.

Something finally broke today. Because of a combination of business travel and family emergencies, he’s been gone for the last two months. He only got home a week ago, and things were worse than ever. Two months apart, and we spent the weekend sitting on his couch watching Lost re-runs on DVD. Finally, we finished a disc and turned off the TV, and we just sat there, staring at the blank television. And staring. And staring. We sat there for at least twenty minutes. Truthfully, I spent most of the time staring at him. I’d never seen him look so miserable. I thought maybe he was worried about his dad.

I asked him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

We sat some more.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” A pause. “I don’t know if I can talk about it right now.”

“Do you need to be alone? I can go, if you want.”

“That might be a good idea.”

I gathered my stuff. “If you need to talk, call me.”

“Okay.”

We hugged. Before I let him go, I said, “Can I ask one more question?”

“Sure.”

“Are we okay?”

“I don’t know.” No.

And, at last, we started talking. God, I forgot how much I missed talking with him. I’d known for so long that the relationship wasn’t working out. I’m an honest person, most of the time. The only person I’ve ever been able to convincingly lie to has been myself. I could tell myself that everything was fine, that I was happy. I couldn’t tell him that. So I just stopped talking to him at all. And he’d been doing exactly the same thing, and we were both miserable. We had to change something. We still love each other. We still need each other. But we’ve got other needs. Ones we just can’t fulfill for each other. Our relationship isn’t over, it’s just not what we thought it was. He’s not my boyfriend, and he hasn’t been for a while.

He’s my best friend.

I haven’t had a best friend in a long time.

I love him. I haven’t been able to tell him that for a year, because in the context, it would have been a lie. I didn’t love him as a boyfriend. Tonight, I could tell him I still loved him, that I’d always love him. Because he’s my best friend, and right now, there’s still no one in the world more important to me.

I love you, Chuck.

That’s so sweet and sad.

I hope you manage to stay friends. You obviously mean a lot to each other. Good luck to both of you.

I’m sorry to hear this. I remember when you two got together. Hope everything works out for the best for both of you.

Sorry to hear about it, Miller. I remember SolGrundy, and I remember vaguely when you two got together. Very bittersweet…my best wishes that you two stay friends at least for a long time.

Change is that thing which hurts, and growth is that which heals us. Memory is what connects the joy of yesterday with the wisdom of today, and hope holds onto both and extends a hand toward the future. This allows all the sad, happy, joyous, grieving, celebrating, young, old, naive and experienced men in our heads to animate a single body and become better, more capable and resilient, more mature and human, with each new turn of fortune. In your thirties you’re still young, Miller, to contain so many, and that’s bound to be painful. I can’t fix that. Sorry.

But you’ve pointed your own way out without help. It goes through friendship and acceptance – tough, muddy, unrewarding slogs, in my experience – and the only prize is your own sanity. You know, that thing that shows you logically, step by step, exactly why you should be miserable. But sanity has its advantages too, as you well know.

It’s glib, sappy and ultimately unproveable to say this – but it’s also true, and it’ll help if you can believe it – emotionally speaking, you can always get what you pay for, if you don’t cheat on it.

I can’t ease your unhappiness, Miller: all I can do is assure you, as someone who’s gone through it himself, that it’s not an infinite price, and that it does, for the attentive and thoughtful, buy something worthwhile.

Best regards and wishes. To you both.

Thanks for the kind thoughts, everyone. I’m actually pretty okay with everything, though. I knew this was coming, and I guess I thought it would be much more painful than it turned out to be. I really do think we’ve got a good shot at being friends. Neither of us is the jealous type, and the parts of the relationship that were still working at the end were the same stuff that makes the foundation of a good friendship. We had some plans for this weekend before we broke up, and we’re going to follow through with them. I can’t say that I don’t have regrets, but on the balance, I really feel positive about this. And even if it doesn’t work out, I’ve always felt that any new experience, even a bad one, is valuable. This was my first real break up, and while it’s certainly melancholy in a lot of ways, I’ve also learned that it’s something I can handle in a mature and responsible way.

Well, so far, anyway. It’s only been a day. Come Sunday, I might be curled up in bed, sobbing uncontrollably, surrounded by empty Ben & Jerry’s containers.

But I kinda doubt it.

Gee, Miller, I’m sorry. Good luck to you and SolGrundy.

(And have a pint of Brownie Batter for me!)

I know it’s sad, but I’m glad you are able to look at things in a positive way. I’m hoping for the best for both of you.

Sorry to hear that things didn’t work but I’m glad to hear that it sounds like you both are okay with it. I definitely hope that you guys can preserve the friendship. Sometimes the greatest loss after a breakup isn’t the romantic aspect but how the bitterness of the breakup poisoned the friendship (that has happened to me a few times). Hopefully you two can avoid that ugliness. All the best to both of you.

Sorry to hear your news. Sending supporting thoughts your way.

Sucks man, but it sounds as if you are dealing with it. I have a lot of respect for your intellect and overall humanity. Good luck to you.

I’m sorry to hear about this, Miller. I am also sending supportive thoughts your way.

I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you two. But it sounds like you’re ending things on good terms. And clearly this is a positive change for you guys, even if it’s not fun at the moment. Sending good thoughts your way and stuff.

Miller, you have so much heart and depth. It must be a relief to you to be resting firmly on the truth again. That’s so much a part of you.

Damn, I’m really sorry to hear that, Miller.

I doubt he ever mentioned it, but Chuck and I used to talk a lot online. We played Xbox Live together, chatted on Aim, and he mailed me a few of the free games he got while he was working for that big game developer. He is a super, super cool guy. I remember when you two first started seeing each other; I didn’t know much about you then but I’ve noticed your posts since then and you seem like a really great guy, too (by which I mean you use your mouth purdy - to quote, ummm, you.) You two seemed perfect for each other.

I’ve been wondering where he’s been for awhile, and I’ve ever been tempted to ask you, but I didn’t know if you were still together or not so I did not want to hit a sore spot.

If it’s any consolation, I learned a lot from my first break-up. It was the catalyst for me to move across the country and improve my life tenfold, and I think I have a much better relationship with my wife because of the lessons I learned from it.

Best of luck to you both. I hope you can let it hurt for awhile if it hurts, but not too long.

If you can still have each other as friends, … umm, OK, that still slices and bleeds rather painfully, but all things considered that’s so much better an outcome than totally losing each other.

Tell SolGrundy to get his butt in here and start posting again. I remember him.

Hey, Cisco. Yeah, Chuck mentioned talking to you a few times. Didn’t you sell him a bunch of Legion of Superhero comics? If you’ve still got his email, I’m sure he’d like to hear from you again.

Everyone else, thanks so much for the thoughts and kind words. It really means a lot to me.

I’m sorry to hear about your breakup. Even after the feelings are gone, it’s hard when it happens.

If you can’t be lovers, you can still be friends.

And tell Sol to get back in here and start wasting his life at the Dope.

Congratulations on finding your best friend!

Really, I mean that sincerely, I’m not being flippant.