I have struggled with where to pick up the thread to tell this story, because as with all divorce stories, it’s complicated. If I tug on one small piece the entire ball of yarn tumbles to the ground and any sense of cohesion is lost. Then there’s the absolutely mind-boggling number of events that have occurred over the last 3.5 years that would make telling this story almost as long as the process itself. I could start with the day I left, when I came home and found two women in swimsuits …
