esrosedotblog

Frank Bruno has a wise article today about living and not living together lover/partners, maybe not husbands though.

Of Love and Fungus

My experience, our experience, leads us to agree with Bruni.

We just clench inside when a young couple says they are going to move in together.

"Too soon", I want to shout.

Fortunately for us, we were fighting so much in the beginning, that it was obvious that we needed "our space" as they say.

And they say that for all the right reasons.

There are two kinds of couples. Well, many more, but it makes a nice diagram.

Those for whom living with someone else has always been their mode. Parents, room mates, and maybe, lovers.

Being a serious boyfriend and eventual lover and husband is different. Find out who you are before you try the turbulent waters of a serious love.

Serious love is exhausting. If for no other reason, you need the rest between sessions. Reflection. Also, some time looking at why you have never wanted or needed to be alone.

The other kind are those who have never lived with someone else.

I was an only child. I had a double, then a single then a double then a single in college.

I got married. Pow.

Very tough. But, the default position for straight marrieds is to stay together and have kids. Even if you are really gay.

When I came out, I had to live alone because that was my circumstance. I also needed privacy to experiment. To be with other men on my own turf and theirs. To learn the difference between liking someone a lot and lusting after them a lot and, the third most difficult option, loving them a lot in the way that produces country and pop music.

Sex with a powerful difference. So much MATTERS!

I did have a gay room mate once but that was to protect me from myself and John. Our drive to live together was almost intolerable but then so were more than a day, then two days, then maybe three and that is it of being together in one place. Impossible. Him and me.

We needed a brake.

We tried living together a couple of times and came to grief. Then, on the final try, bingo.

What made the difference? Time. Simple time.

And separate isn't bad. I like Bruni's examples.

There is the arrival after time apart.

Thunder and lightning.

The feeling that we are somehow carrying out an affair even though there isn't any one else.

Going out on dates to dinner, the theater, the movies, for walks. Treats.

Sex. The thrill of the withheld touch, the sudden grasp or lunge. The waiting for it.

Then, as Bruni is finding out, other discoveries are made. The difference between waking up frightened and alone and, on the other hand, frightened and within arms reach, a touch, from a beloved other. Instant peace.

The sharing of lives. Some things just cannot be done on dates. Having a dog? Tough. And all the rest.

We had some trial and error. We were not afraid to separate, especially when the big challenges came. Difficult.

I, for one, had to learn about me and relationships once more. The graduate school. Alone after having had a wonderful life with someone else that didn't work out the first time.

Willingness to let that first time be the last time until it could work again. Courage. Dating all over again. Such an important lesson. Crucial.

Labels: life, marriage