Let's pretend that everything is fine.

[audio]

If ever I had an ego, it ceased-to-be in 2025, along with any inherent sense of pride in my accomplishments I might have once possessed.

But maybe what I'm actually talking about is self-esteem. Or could I be talking about my sense of self-worth?  I don't know. Took my last psychology class half-a-lifetime ago, so I'm not really sure. Also, I haven't seen my therapist in a while (It's time; going to see her on Tuesday). Thus, for today, I'm doing my own stunts when it comes to dredging the definitions and depths of these terms.

Holidays and bitter anniversaries have me feeling pretty shitty these days. Devastated. Sad. Unlovable. Humiliated. Lonely. Unwanted. Without value. Aimless. Why?  My wife left me.  A year ago.  Told me she didn't love me any more.  Moved out of our house.  Walked away from me, our home, our entire extended family, all of our pets, and every single one of our family photos, to say nothing of the many happy memories and moments contained therein. 

Ghosted. All of it.

I'm exhausted from pretending that everything is fine.

Let's redecorate the living room!

It was just about a year ago when my now ex-wife revealed the first of many reasons she had for needing to leave me (ultimately there were more than 20; I kept a list). In October 2024, about two weeks before she actually got around to telling me that she didn't love me anymore and was moving out, she told me that it was deeply upsetting to her that “everywhere I look around here, I just see your shit. Especially the garage!  Oh my god, you have completely taken over the garage!"  

True, I'll admit, but only to a point.  Lots of bikes and skis, workbenches and tools out there.  Hard to be a bike rider without owning a few bikes, or a skier without a quiver of skis...

Let's get a divorce.

[audio]

Divorce is a world of suck best avoided. 

Divorce is a towering rogue wave sufficient to rend asunder half a lifetime's promises, hopes, and dreams.

Divorce is a muddled muttered mantra of repeated regret.  

Divorce is a long lonely road in the middle of nowhere, inevitably heading somewhere, albeit only god-knows-where. 

Divorce is an explosion of great magnitude resulting in the complete and utter destruction of all familiar things, leaving behind only charred scattered remnants and thoroughly annihilated particles.^*

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I conferred what feels as if it could be one of the last physical reminders (that and this apparently indelible and resistant-to-all-lasers ring-finger-tattoo on my left hand) of my now defunct 28-year marriage to the good folks at the bike shop this week. 

Let's go to France!

Went to Paris (the one in France) for a post-divorce "Tuscan Sun" adventure in July.  Fair to call visiting Paris a long-standing "bucket-list" item of mine. But, given the sad situation I found myself in in January 2025, planning and accomplishing this trip solo came to mean a lot more to me than just another item to check-off that list.

Pleased to report, I had a truly amazing time!  Aside from one breakdown on the RER-B train on my way into the city from the airport (which required me to navigate the massive Gare du Nord train station unrehearsed in order to find an alternative route to my hotel), everything went super smoothly travel-wise. I met lots of good people, ate tons of good food, drank gallons of great wine, and visited innumerable amazing places.  All the things one does while visiting that ancient, complicated, beautiful city.

While I was there, wandering around the city by day on a janky rental bike (and each night via the Métro), I posted a few pictures, along with some wordy captions, to my Instagram.  They're all embedded (and thus preserved) in chronological order below.

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