Breaking up is hard to do

If you’re a regular reader of this column, you’ve read over the last few years about my relationship with Jason. He’s also had a profound involvement with many of the projects I’ve worked on and therefore many of you have gotten to know him. As the song goes, “Breaking up is hard to do.”

After six wonderful years, we both feel that it’s time to move in different directions. That’s it, no drama here. Sorry I can’t give you a scandal-tabloid-sensationalist story but, for me, these were six wonderful years, full of fond memories we both will share and, personally, some of my most productive. And much of the credit should go to Jason, who is one of the brightest, gentlest, giving — and did I mention handsomest — men I’ve ever met. He has intelligence and talent that will take him far, and I look forward to celebrating his success.

We often do not appreciate or realize the important roles our partners and friends play in our lives. For me, Jason and my group of friends serve a very important role. They allow me to vent, bounce ideas around and put up with what I call the three-ring circus around me.

While my friends can go home at night, Jason got the 24-hour version of what can certainly be billed as a high-maintenance life. And he handled it with grace and understanding.

While our parting is mutual, it doesn’t mean it’s not painful. We are each losing something very personal and that creates a void. And even a mutual parting takes time to deal with and readjustment of your life. All of that brings sorrow. Part of the sorrow comes from friends asking for the story. Well, I’m very lucky and have many friends, and repeating it countless times does not help the process. So now you have the story.

Humor was always a key to our relationship and, as I dropped him off at the train station for what may be the last time — both of us in tears — he looked back into the window, trying to lighten the situation, and said, “Do you have anything funny to say?” For once, I was at a loss for words and just nodded my head. He told me a funny story from when he was in third grade. It brought a smile to both our faces. And that is the way we will remember each other.

Mark Segal is PGN publisher. He can be reached at [email protected]

Newsletter Sign-up