The post you've all been waiting for.

It's been 20 years since I was single. There was a period Photogal and I were apart in the early aughts, but we were still hanging out all the time so I don't really count that.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Luckily I'm still good looking enough that I entertain plenty of relationships, but I'm so out of practice they all crash and burn.

Being single nowadays sucks. But it doesn't suck nearly as much as making my soon-to-be-ex-wife single. That pains me the most. How in god's name do I right that kind of wrong?

So I'm wracked with guilt.

I had what to everyone else looked like a perfect life. But it wasn't. Or was it? I was too blind to accept it.

This is the post I've been alluding to for months. And avoiding for even longer.

Michelle and I are done. Finito. Final. And it wasn't until she screamed at me over the phone yesterday I truly believed it. But we are. Done.

I actually appreciated her screaming at me. It made me realize there is no route back. And I finally got it.

I was an excellent boyfriend. But not a great husband. I don't blame her. At all.

Not. At. All.

Now what?

I'm lost.

I'm fucked.