Today marks the 1-year anniversary of me separating from my wife.
While she was with our daughter and her friends 90 miles away, I was loading my life into the back of a transit van, moving into a distant flat against my will because my wife ‘loved’ someone else. Such is life.
That probably wasn’t entirely the case, as the subsequent suicide threat and hospitalisation suggests, but will still be closer to the truth than I ever dare tell anyone, ever, including those who pretty much know the whole story from start to finish. My wife was diagnosed with severe depression with bipolar tendancies. Knowing what I now know about this, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.
Anyway, the details are not important at this time.