By Jennifer Merin

Nothing in life is permanent—not in romance or real estate. And that certainly applies to my life in New York. When my former partner and I bought our house, I thought it was forever. But within six years, I found myself being phased out of the house and the relationship. It was very disappointing, very painful. You have to learn how to be flexible. Life's a huge learning curve.

—W.T., 58, businessman

W.T.'S A NEWLYWED. Several months ago, he married the man with whom he's shared his life for more than a dozen years. The couple, accompanied by several of their friends and kinfolk, flew to Toronto, where same-sex marriage is legal, and during a daylong celebration, they exchanged vows and tied the knot. Then they returned home to New York, where their marriage is legally recognized, but barely honored in the bureaucracy's official realms.

"Now, I'm really looking to relocate in a really big way—to the city where my marriage is fully recognized," says W.T. "I have a feeling my partner and I might soon be joining what is becoming an increasing number of people who're looking north of the border for a fairer way of life."

But W.T. has ties to New York real estate, and before he leaves town, he'd like to take care of several loose ends. "Most of my assets are wrapped up in the four-story West Side building I bought with my former partner, where we shared the duplex apartment on the ground and first floors until we split up in 1990. At that time, my former partner, who owns the major share of the building, kept the duplex, and I moved in to one of the four rental units on the building's two upper floors. At first, I lived there full-time—for about two years. But after I met my current partner and moved in with him, I used my own apartment mostly as my office. And, actually, I've barely used it at all since 2002. It has become sort of a storage space—a very expensive one," says W.T. "Now I'd really like to restore the apartment to the building's rent rolls. But there are several sticky issues to deal with before that can be done."

For one thing, the building's C of O (certificate of occupancy) indicates there are four—not five—dwelling units. "That's because we'd financed the property with an individual mortgage rather than a commercial loan. The rates were much cheaper, but you couldn't get an individual mortgage for properties containing more than four units. In order to qualify, we removed the kitchen from one unit, and officially identified that space as an office that was appended to the duplex in which we were living at the time. This was done by other owners in our situation, and it's perfectly legal," says W.T.

"But, in wanting to rent the building's fifth unit, the apartment will substantially reduce the carrying costs—and so many people out there really need places to live that it seems unfair to keep the apartment empty. We could easily restore the kitchen to complete the unit. But, it's so extremely costly to change the C of O to read five dwelling units, the expense will more than offset our income gain," says W.T. "Of course, we could rent the apartment illegally—as many small-building landlords do, but that would raise serious ethical and practical issues we'd have to sort out before taking action."

W.T.'s also concerned about the building's maintenance.

"When I lived in the building, I was much more involved in its daily maintenance. When I stopped living there, this maintenance wasn't continued. My former partner is less engaged than I was in carrying on this activity. This is a source of irritation. As I said, my share of the building is my primary asset, so I'd like to see it well-preserved. But it's very tricky when business matters are burdened with heavy emotional baggage." o