My ex-husband and I used to half-joke about what we’d do if we got divorced—I don’t always like you, I’d say, but I like being married.
He’d say: I’m never getting married again if this doesn’t work out.
His girlfriend moved in with him before the divorce was final—they’ll be married in a few months.
Our two sons have yet to be introduced to a man in my life.
We separated six years ago. Neither of us is who we said we were.
Though it gets a bad rap, not being in love with your boyfriend is a comfortable place to be; one doesn’t feel off-kilter. When he was unhappy with me I was clear-headed, took out a notepad and wrote down his concerns, moved toward problem-solving to preserve the trappings of what we had—daily phone calls and text messages, steady sex, a date I needed one. I made space to accommodate this thing I kind of wanted, this thing I was finally mature enough to settle into. Not being in love with a very nice boyfriend is a good compromise.