Prologue (2025)
I met Beth when I started a new job.
On my first day at work she came down the stairs and asked if anyone wanted to go to McDonald’s. I jumped up and went with her. She drove a beat up Toyota Tercel with fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror, a Mickey Mouse keychain, and she had a ditzy Diane Keaton vibe that I really liked.
About a month later they laid Beth off. I was working late when she came to the office to pick up her stuff. As she went to her car, I realized I was probably never going to see her again. I ran out to the parking lot and invited her to a Halloween party. We married in 1990.
Our first ten years were happy. We traveled. We threw parties. We bought a house. We had a son. We were a good couple, but parenthood exposed deep cracks in our relationship dynamic. We started couples counseling in 2003.
By spring 2006, about a week before this account begins, meetings with our therapist had become sullen. During a lull in a session, the therapist asked Beth what she was thinking. Beth said, “I think I’m done.”
So I took a phrase from a Leonard Cohen song and started a blog. Nearly twenty years later, I’ve come back to it.
It’s hard to remember who I was, what I was feeling then. Looking back, it’s obvious we should have separated years earlier. Why did it take me so long?
My parents had divorced, and I wanted to avoid that at all costs. What would happen to the boy? Where would I live? Where would he live? Would either of us remarry? Lawyers would be involved.
All that would come later. First, I needed to find a new place to live…