I no longer recognize the person I was when I was 25 years old.
I don’t quite know who I was. I was managing editor of a small daily newspaper. I was good at my job. I was brash. Ambitious. Arrogant. I knew it all. I was going to change the world.
And that precocious and baby-faced man was married, too.
I rarely mention having been married back then, although I wrote about it here a couple of years ago. In fact, I rarely think about it. That’s a part of my life that feels completely foreign to me now. It’s almost as though it never happened.
Even though she and I have been divorced for years now, I still have the highest regard for the woman I married back then. We still have friendly correspondence every now and then. I’m very happy that she married a man who seems perfect for her. They have a fine son and they’re both college journalism professors.
When we married, I thought she was my soulmate. I thought our marriage was for life. So what happened? Was I wrong to think we were soulmates? Or was it something else?

Goodbye, Amelia (2000-2013)
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