I’ve always heard people say that once you break up with someone you “end it.” But I think there’s another option to this—one that doesn’t involve walking away from an important relationship you’ve worked hard to develop. It’s called friendship. I know, this seems easier said than done, but with a little time and effort, if you value the qualities in someone, there’s really no reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater.
Five or six years ago, I met a handsome stranger in a bar and did what any gay man would do: I walked up to him after exchanging a few glances, looked him in the eye, and complimented him on his shoes. Little did I know that G had sixty other pairs at home besides those and I had given him one of the biggest compliments I could have imagined. One thing led to another and before too long, G and I moved in together. He introduced me to a world I’d never before experienced and challenged me to open my eyes to not only what was going on around me, but also inside me.
I grew up in Kentucky and he grew up in Spain. We had nothing in common geographically but that only seemed to compliment our curiosity of each other. At times it was a challenge, but overall, it worked. I taught him to love country music and he taught me Spanish.
We moved from the apartment we first shared into a nicer place. After that, we decided it was time to buy a house together. To celebrate the decision, we planned a trip to Colombia for a friend’s fortieth birthday bash. The way we saw it, buying a house that needed a lot of TLC would likely drain our accounts and this would be the last time we’d be able to treat ourselves for a while. Little did we know at the time how right we were.
After braving a bullet-proof cab ride to the hotel, we discovered we were not only in another world, but also unable to find the rest of the birthday bash participants. We did what any logical American gay men would do while staying in an area decorated with armed guards on both sides of the street: we hailed a cab and asked to be taken to the nearest gay bar to check out the local scene.
The next day we did touristy things before heading to the party that night. Although G seemed happy enough, I could tell something was off. Once we found his friends, he was much more at ease. I, on the other hand, would have been just as happy had we never found them. Although they were all extremely nice to me, I felt like a bit of an outsider not being able to speak Spanish. The big birthday bash proved to be a challenge for each of us. He wanted to reconnect with people but he had to balance that with the time he spent with me. And since I wasn’t yet fluent in Spanish, he had to translate everything on both sides. I’m sure it was exhausting.
By the time we left Colombia a few days later, something had been lost that could never be replaced. We both knew it. The flight home was awkward. The days to follow were no different. After avoiding the topic for a few days, we met at home and tackled the obvious. Through many tears, we chose to end our relationship while promising to grow our friendship. Many people start out after a breakup with that intention and fail. But we were determined to do it. To make it even tougher, we hadn’t even moved into the home we’d just bought together. But we knew that if we could get through the awkward post-breakup phase, we could do anything.
