It was eleven years ago to the day today that my life started unravelling. (Actually, it had been that way for some time, but I'd been oblivious to it.) That, too, was a Monday. Now that I feel that after a long, long decline, things may be starting to look up consistently, maybe it's time to put some of this stuff down here. It will cast a little light on why this blog has been slightly short on updates in the past two years or so.
I spent more than seventeen years with my first girlfriend. We were deliriously in love for a long time, and mostly happy all the way through, and desperately tried to make it work to the bitter end. Had we been willing to face it, it could have ended on that June evening in 2002. She came in and told me she'd been having an affair for nearly a year. It certainly explained the odd behaviour, the unexplained absences, the times when she'd come home crying without giving a reason. I was shocked, but in my shock I resolved to tough it out and not make hasty decisions. Neither of us were willing to throw away the good we'd had.