- My ex and I had a great relationship, but we needed to end things because we couldn't make it work.
- When I met my new boyfriend, I told him I still wanted to remain close friends with that ex.
My last serious romantic relationship was one of the most important relationships of my life. His name is Moses, and I count him as a member of my family.
There were many reasons that I fell in love with Moses. We poked fun at one another, took great pleasure in people-watching in Manhattan, and concocted stories about the people we observed. We believed that much of the world was inherently absurd but did not lose hope or veer towards nihilism. We loved each other's pheromones and maintained great chemistry — even over a year into the relationship.
We also healed a lot together over the course of our relationship and accepted one another as a whole. Moses showed me grace, teaching me that many things about my past were not my fault and that I should not be so hard on myself. I tried to mirror that back to him.
But, for a number of reasons, we could not work as a stable romantic unit. But I decided he would remain in my life forever.
We broke up because we couldn't get the timing right
Moses is a touring comedian and actor with an unpredictable schedule. He lives in Los Angeles, and I live in New York. While I accompanied him on some of his tours to places like Sydney and Edinburgh, Scotland, we had trouble planning for basic date nights, vacations, or family events.
I found myself exhausted, living an unpredictable comedian's night-time and early morning schedule while still having to wake up at semi-normal hours to pursue my business and creative endeavors.
In short, while we loved each other, we couldn't quite figure out how to spend enough time together or meet each other's needs. I trusted in his love but not the idea that he would be physically available when I needed him. I did not always feel emotionally safe.
I fell in love again with someone new
Moses — now my ex — went back to Los Angeles permanently a year ago, and I started dating in New York.
I met my new boyfriend, Cooper, five months ago. In addition to sharing a similar outlook on the world and a darker sense of humor, he is a talented painter and a father, grounded in his Brooklyn art studio. He is incredibly kind.
Cooper is also — more than most men — very in touch with his emotions and has worked on his personal growth. He does what he says he is going to do, so I have never felt like he might not show up or that his consistency might waver. He is the sort of partner who goes out to buy me band-aids when my new shoes blister my heel.
I was nervous when I told Cooper about my close relationship with Moses. The short relationships I had between Moses and Cooper made me extremely anxious about my friendship with Moses.
I don't begrudge them for feeling uneasy. Moses sometimes professes his love and his desire to get back together. It's unusual to remain in such close contact with an ex — especially one who wants to get back together — without a new partner feeling some pangs of jealousy.
But Cooper accepted his presence in my life without batting an eye.
Thankfully, my new boyfriend accepts my old one
Cooper's philosophy is that people should be free to explore their interests, friendships, and desires outside a romantic relationship — so long as they tell the truth and respect their partner. I also subscribe to this philosophy.
Before meeting me, Cooper was in an emotionally and financially stifling relationship where he felt prohibited from spending time with his friends. He would not want anyone else to feel the same way.
Beyond this, he understands that people have needs that might not fit within the relationship blueprint that we are told to follow — a blueprint that might call this unusual situation a "red flag" to keep relations with an ex. Cooper believes it is better to be open about our desires and needs than keep them a secret.
He also knows how supportive Moses is of me and how supportive I am of him. We both deserve that emotional support.
I also want to know all about Cooper's past and have met women with whom he has been intimate. Our openness and communication have been the bedrock of our relationship, and I never feel like we are hiding anything from one another. Every person has some secrets and innermost thoughts that they keep to themselves. We shouldn't be total mind-readers of one another, but openness, for the most part, has felt liberating to me in our relationship.
Accepting the whole of someone, and not only the parts that are convenient to the ego, is an illuminating experience. To me, feeling like I can tell my partner anything — or at least most things — is the ultimate form of love.