DEAR SUSAN: I believe staying friends with a former lover requires both people believing such a thing is possible, in the abstract. They must want it to be true that former lovers can keep the good feelings they share; they must also believe there was no betrayal in their past relationship. That's all difficult enough to achieve, but add two wild cards in the form of new partners for each person, and you can bet things will get even more dicey. Because even if the original twosome are mature and know themselves well, the new partners also must believe it's possible in the abstract for exes to remain friends and harbor only friendliness toward each other — without any physical attraction. Not easy if that new partner has ever been cheated on. — From the "Single File" blog

DEAR BLOGGER: No one (least of all yours truly) is saying that sliding from lover to close friend is an easy reformation to bring off. Still, it does seem wasteful to toss the entire relationship — good feelings cultivated over months, perhaps years — because the passion has cooled. After all, the close relatedness took a long time to build, with many shared memories close to your hearts. Those small moments of deep affection and genuine caring may never again be revisited by anyone but the two of you. All of that is so precious that it just doesn't deserve to be relegated to a cobwebbed attic. Yes, it takes two rather wise people to pull this off, not only to morph former physicality into warm friendship but to make acceptance of it a requirement for future lovers, going forward. (The more I think about it, such acceptance could be a litmus test for future partners.) Admittedly, this is a rather sophisticated arrangement, not for the faint of heart. But then again, who on earth would want romance of the fainthearted ilk?

DEAR SUSAN: Thank you for making the effort to use the term "polyamory" instead of plural lovers, which is what you used to say. Also, thanks for saying that though it's not for you, you don't think less of people who do choose it. Personally, I don't quite understand why it's so puzzling that people structure their romantic lives in different ways; we seem to accept "different strokes for different folks" in politics, religion, career, finances, raising children, etc. Isn't this merely one more realm in which the breadth of human choice and experience should be accepted, if not celebrated? After all, if everyone practiced polyamory, there'd be no monogamists left for you! — From the "Single File" blog

DEAR BLOGGER: Hey, even an advice columnist can learn from her readers. And this one isn't all-knowing, certainly not. And if I was disrespectful about your choice of sex style, I am truly sorry. I certainly am not the I Ching of singles columnists — dwelling not on Mount Olympus, but here on good solid terra firma. Yes, I am committed to lifelong learning, but the shock value of polyamory momentarily clouded my judgment. (The more I research it, clarity of vision returns and takes its rightful place.) I don't imagine it will be part of my life experience, but you seem to be aware of its pitfalls and need no advice from this corner. I wish you fulfillment and safe satisfaction and hope you will be a part of "Single File" for many, many moons.

DEAR SUSAN: I believe that you made the comment about hiding one's head in a book because you think, correctly, that some people are ashamed to go to a restaurant all by themselves, women especially. Maybe they think it makes them appear as if they can't get a date. (Pathetic, but some actually do feel that way.) When I was single, I never let that get in the way of dining out, and I was rarely treated rudely. Just two days ago, I had the day off and went to a small upscale eatery for lunch. I was asked whether someone would be joining me, but other than that, I was treated no differently than the couples in the room. There is nothing wrong with being single or married; the only thing wrong is if you're unhappy with your particular situation. — From the "Single File" blog

DEAR BLOGGER: Yup. It all starts with you, your mood, what's in your head. To test that theory, try dining in that same eatery on a day you're feeling blue, out of sorts. (Yes, married folks get that way, too.) Then see how defensive you may feel about being solo. At that point, you may notice small things that offend, little omissions/commissions that feel like barbed wire to the soul. Each of us has that small insecure side; and for some, having a body alongside (not necessarily the love of your life, not even someone you particularly like) seems to temporarily dull the sharp aloneness. Enough said? Over and out.

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