Moving on: Gay Man's Guide for Coping When a Relationship Ends (Paperback)

However, during the last two years of our partnership, we both realized something had gone terribly wrong. When Robert's parents became gravely ill, I resented their dying at a time of exciting change in our lives. I never admitted my resentment to Robert, but I'm sure he knew. Just as he knew that, despite my callousness, I loved my "in-laws" very, very much. Still, Robert could not depend on me to support and comfort him-not when I had so many irons in the fire.

After their deaths, Robert fell into a serious depression. His life became a routine of sleep and work, sleep and work. Because of my career decisions, our style and standard of living deteriorated. Many of the financial responsibilities that had been mine suddenly became his. But he understood my decisions, and kept his silence.

His silence, to me, was maddening. I felt peripheral to his life. Because we couldn't resolve what was happening, I grew bitter. I realized that I wanted something "better" in my life. When I began therapy, hoping to salvage our relationship, Robert balked. "I think we're beating a dead horse," he said. "Let's not prolong things. If we do, we'll end up hating each other."

He was right, of course. I just didn't expect things to end as quickly as they did. He met a man in Washington, DC, while accompanying me on a business trip. Within two months, he announced his intention to move on.

For me, it was too soon. I needed more time.

But time was something Robert didn't have. He had no choice but to escape a bad situation. I felt lost,lonely and abandoned. I intensified my therapy sessions, and gratefully accepted my shrink's offer to write a prescription for antidepressants. Soon, I started dating Josh, but wondered what I could possibly offer a partnership.

Always a reader, I searched for books to help. I found a few volumes on how to make gay relationships work. Well, Robert and I had already experienced success as a couple for fifteen years. I needed something to help me break up without losing my sanity.

I began jotting down observations about my own experiences. My musings accelerated the therapeutic process-including my ability to appreciate what Josh and I were gradually building. Before long, I saw the beginnings of a book emerge-though I knew that my experiences alone would hardly resonate with every gay man who suffered a break-up. I searched for others who had survived the end of long-term relationships. I found more than fifty in just a week. After talking with them, I realized that, at least in a small way, together we might help others to regain some equilibrium after thinking they would never again find happiness.

But we do find it, after all--and often in the most unexpected places.