On 2010-01-02 around 10:30, after having talked to my wife on the phone while she was on her way back home, I realized my love for her was gone. It was the emotional equivalent of a baseball bat to the head, and I spent the next while lying curled up on he floor crying, then another hour staring out the window completely and utterly lost.

There had been signs months—perhaps even years—earlier, but as always, you live life forwards, but understand it backwards. That’s how such big things can suddenly hit you apparently out of the blue.

My love was broken beyond repair, though I—and we—tried very hard to fix it. January was the hardest month of my life. I landed a new job in that period after having gone unemployed for 74 days, and I’d normally be ecstatic about that, but instead I just felt relieved that I’d get to be away from home a good 40 hours a week.

So we decided on a divorce, or more precisely, getting separated. We’ve sent in the paperwork, and last week-end Mette Marie and the kids moved to Trige. Saying goodbye to the kids was absolutely heartbreaking.

We now have a very nice apartment for sale, 200 m from Islands Brygge metro station, a little further to the IT University and the national radio concert hall and less than 2 km from Copenhagen city hall. And I have enjoyed that I could go for a run and within 2 minutes be on paths on Amager Fælled that can last for up to 10 km runs without being repetitive. We’ve been privileged living in such a great place, and we’re going to miss it.

Oh, and I’m looking for an apartment to rent for when we get this one sold.

I was at Open Source Days 2010 today, and met a lot of my normally online friends in real life, which is always great, but had to talk about the divorce. It was tough, but you were all sorry and understanding and everything. Thanks. It helped me tremendously to just talk about it, getting it out in the open. I feel a lump in my throat just writing this. Better stop now.

I think this is what I’ll write about the divorce here. Deliberately kept short (kind of, I’d originally envisioned something half the length), because I could go on for a long time about a billion things, but it’s private, painful and, I think, bad form to do so.

Thanks for reading.