New Beginnings.

Receiving the final divorce papers wasn’t as upsetting as I thought it was going to be. Even though I’d initiated the divorce, one does not leave a marriage of over twenty years lightly. I trust the fact that I’m only lightly unsettled by this means that I’ve done the right thing. I hope there’s no delayed reaction waiting for me in a week’s or a month’s time.

With my would-have-been twenty-second anniversary looming on the horizon, I wonder if I should ask my ex if he wants to meet for dinner. I remain unsure of the rules and etiquette surrounding staying friends after the marriage. We’ve done OK so far, and ironically have more to say to each other now than we ever did while we were together. I suppose that comes of saving up weeks of happenings; somehow enough events get cobbled together that it’s possible to almost maintain an evening’s worth of conversation with him now. I suspect that, now that the necessity to meet with lawyers and bankers on even an irregular basis is at an end, we’ll gradually drift apart. I know we will when he finds someone else. I doubt that, whoever she turns out to be, she’ll want him maintaining ties with the ex. I’m even resigned to that.

The Professor is still sleeping. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he’s just gone to bed. He only hit pillows about six o’clock, and his coming in woke me past the point of regaining sleep. We talked about nothing for perhaps an hour, until he started falling asleep and I got dressed and crept out of the bedroom so as to not disturb him.

Having finally set this diary up, I find I’m now in a reflective mood. The morning is still cool, so the time is right to grab the paper, some tea and a couple of those scones and sit outside for a bit. Time to figure out where I’m going from here.

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