The experience made us closer
I wasn’t thrilled when I had to live with my ex after we broke up. In fact, I’d go as far to say I feared it like my worse nightmare. I made it very clear to my boyfriend when I moved in, that if we broke up, I’d leave ASAP. I wouldn’t want any drama. I wouldn’t want any awkwardness. I wouldn’t try to be “friends.” I would just pack my bags, and get the hell out.
But when we actually did break up, I didn’t have choice but to stay in the same apartment with him.
See, I was moving to a different state in less than eight weeks for work. I couldn’t push up the date I was moving, and frankly, didn’t have the money to move twice. So I stayed, living in the same apartment as my ex.
Now we did break up amicably. I feel like that’s something important I should mention. No one cheated on the other. (We were in a completely open relationship with no rules. We were also open to dating other guys too. So in our relationship it was really impossible to “cheat,” at least in the traditional sense of the word.)
The reason we broke up was that he wanted more than I could give him. He wanted a love where your lose yourself in the other person. I told him I was still figuring out who I was as a person, so there’s no way I could lose myself in my love for him.
Maybe a better way to put this is to say that I loved myself more than I loved him. He loved me more than he loved himself. I want to date a guy who loves himself more than he loves me.
So we lived together after the breakup. As expected, it was awkward. It was weird falling into a “friend” role while living with each other. There were simply too many feelings involved.
When he offered to help me move down to NY, I reluctantly took him up on his offer. I knew he thought it would be a good way for us to bond before I moved. He really wanted to stay friends after the break up. That was his first priority, whereas my first priority was self care, which involved withdrawing from any for of relationship with him.
But I said yes for the simple reason that I really needed help with the move. My new housemates wouldn’t be home. They just left the keys in the mailbox, and there would be no way I could move all my stuff by myself.
So we drove down to NY together. It was awkward at times, but honestly, not as bad as I thought. Since our relationship really had manifested itself as close friends (we had stopped having sex months earlier), it wasn’t that awkward.
Later that night, at 5 AM, we ended up at this after hours, and this comically attractive guy was hitting on me. He kept on saying I was gorgeous, and I was like, “Really? Have you not looked at yourself in the mirror recently?” Although I didn’t’ actually say that, I just kept it cool.
I really wanted to go back and have sex with him, but of course, didn’t want to make my ex feel uncomfortable. Now we’ve had threesomes before, but the last two months, we weren’t even sleeping in the same bed, let alone even thinking about being sexual with one another.
My ex, though, was gungho about the prospect of bringing this guy home with us. So we brought this cute guy back, and yeah… we had fun. Probably the best threesome my ex and I have ever had.
After the three of us got brunch together the next morning, our new friend left. I then had some alone time with my ex. Bizarrely enough, it wasn’t like it had been the past two months. It wasn’t like it had been in the car ride up or during the move.
All of the awkwardness, the jitters, the incessant questioning of “Can this friendship actually work?” had disappeared. The dynamic had changed. We felt like friends. Really friends. I was shocked.
I think during the relationship, our sexual chemistry (or lack thereof), had become this big elephant in the room. The two of us never really had a great sex when it was just the two of us. We both knew this, but neither of us has the heart to say something.
But having sex, or more specifically, having good sex (with the help of a third) provided closure. It shut the door on that part of our relationship, so we could now be real friends.
But I also think something else was at play. The thing is, I’m sexual with nearly all my friends. I seldom have a platonic (gay male) friend in my life. So by not having sex and being really aware of how we touch each other (as to not be “too touchy”), it got awkward.
Thus, through having sex with him, I was able to feel like things are normal because yeah, I sometimes get drunk and have sex with my friends, just like I did with him.
Maybe this psychoanalysis of myself is a bunch of BS. I have no idea. All I do know is that since we’ve had sex, we’ve been great friends.
I’m done asking myself why this is the case. Instead, I’m just going to be happy that I’ve been able to become friends with him, when I’ve never been able to become friends with any of my exes ever before.