DEAR CAROLYN: I have never understood how exes can remain good friends. How do you go from having all of someone to only having a part? After my divorce, I met the love of my life. During 2 1/2 wonderful years, we were exclusively intimate, took vacations together, met each other's family and friends, shopped for houses. During our last six months, he became distant, citing work demands. I began to conclude that he had emotional intimacy issues and he was pushing me away.
Then he announced that he wanted me in his life but that we should date other people. I knew I could never make the transition from intimacy one day to watching him date others. I was hurt and angry that he would/could even propose such a thing. I made two attempts to contact him afterward, met with a lukewarm response and no follow-up.
My conclusion is that I was fooled and he actually never cared for me the way I cared for him. I have seen people divorce and somehow become better friends, but I cannot understand how that happens. Can you tell me what I am missing here?
– Just Friends
DEAR JUST FRIENDS: What you're missing, I believe, is insight beyond your experience.
Just because you have painful, lingering feelings doesn't mean every breakup involves them. Just because his friendship overture was insincere doesn't mean everyone's is.
This may seem obvious; of course all people are different, and situations are, too. In fact, almost daily we put ourselves in other people's positions and "feel" things we've never experienced – through TV, movies, books, art. A well-handled drama series could show you exactly how exes form a friendship.
But that's because it's safely abstract. When a situation is all too real and you're in the middle, seeing something from someone else's viewpoint becomes extremely difficult. Why? It forces you to look at yourself with someone else's eyes.
Unless you're willing, and ready, to see yourself in an unflattering light, you're only going to get a distorted or limited view. I think this is exactly where your comprehension of these friendships breaks down.
When you needed to explain why this man became distant, you decided he still loved you but was simply unable to show it. You used a flattering light.
When you needed an explanation for his breaking up, you decided that he deceived you into believing he cared when he never actually did – which makes you gullible but otherwise blameless and makes him the bad guy. Again, flattering light.
Both of these omit a far more common but also more painful possibility: He did love you at first but then didn't, and tried (misguidedly) to be gentle about it. If you ask around, I think you'll find the two-year mark is when passion usually dies. I'm sorry.
I'm also confident the ability to withstand unflattering light is at the heart of post-breakup friendships. To pull it off, both parties must accept their ex's view of events and of themselves. You don't just recognize what somebody dislikes about you; on some level, you must agree.
It's not for everyone – the reckoning can be brutal. But the friendships can also be sweet.
