Paul Hopkins: To love someone, but then to live with them...

My late father used to say: "Loving someone is one thing but liking them and living with them is another matter altogether." And, while I don't doubt that he loved my mother and his three children – in his own peculiar way – in many ways he lived his own life in the marital home almost separately from the rest of us.

That's a whole other day's column but I mention it because of news of a relatively new and growing trend in relationships.

For many couples, moving in together signifies a big step in the relationship. Traditionally, this meant marriage, although nowadays most couples live together – the SUV, the 50-inch TV, the dog and the kids come before getting married, or splitting up. But, as we celebrate Valentine's Day in one guise or other, comes word of a third choice: living apart together.

Surprisingly common, living apart together is increasingly seen as a new and better way for modern couples to live. Surveys suggest that around 10 per cent of adults in Western Europe, the US and Australia live apart together, while up to 12 per cent of people in Ireland and 25 per cent across the water statistically defined as 'single' actually have an intimate partner – they just live somewhere else.

Living apart together supposedly gives people all the advantages of autonomy – doing what you want in your own space, maintaining your own individual friendships – as well as the pleasures of intimacy with a partner. Some even see it as “subverting gendered norms” – or at least that women can escape traditional divisions of housework.

While some who live apart have long distance relationships, most live near one another, and are together much of the time. Nearly all are in constant contact through messaging platforms. And virtually all expect monogamous fidelity.

Surveys show three different types who live apart together. First are those who feel it is “too early” or who are “not ready” to live together yet – mostly young people who see cohabitation as the next stage in their lives. Then, there are the couples who do want to live together but are prevented from doing so. They can’t afford a house – no surprises there – or a partner has a job somewhere else.

Third is a 'preference' group who choose to live apart together over the long term. These are mostly older people – and I know many in this group – who have been married or cohabitated before and, though now in a new relationship, they have become used to their own space and routine.

Now, here's my thing this approaching Valentine's Day. I am the opposite of this new trend of living apart together. I and the mother of my three children live together apart. At least sometimes. After 30 years of a happy marriage, the last number of those years saw us somewhat drift apart, a 10-year age gap not helping. We are now divorced some eight years but in our divorce agreement we decided to hang on to the family home, though the three grown children have since flown the nest.

My ex-wife is in a new relationship since our divorce – I actually introduced them. I was in a new, decade-long relationship but no more, and now have no desire for any such a relationship. I have a very close woman friend the past 15 years, 20 years my junior. She has a partner. She is funny and intelligent. We go for dinner or a social drink or just chat on the phone. We tell each other things about our lives we would tell no other. For me that is more than enough of what I need at this stage in my life from a woman.

Most of my ex-wife's personal effects, wardrobe and such, are still in the family home where I live. She has the master bedroom. I traded down. And once or twice a week she will stay under the same roof as me. Our divorce is, always was, amicable. Some people find that strange. We don't. We have our threel children in common, and four beautiful baby granddaughters.

She hosts Christmas dinner. I put a few bob in her bank account when she goes on holiday. She made sure I was fed and watered during lockdown. And much more.

Often, when she stays the night she will open a bottle of wine at the old Indian oak table and we talk and reminisce.

And sometimes I catch a glimpse of the girl I fell in love with...