Nichol fucking Hahnloser is being … deliberately obtuse.

It’s her right, of course. I brought up our time together from last month, and she kinda went off on a bender.

What is crucial to bring up is that we can’t be in the same room without feeling what’s happening. That was our downfall in 2009, and it remains the issue today.

I’m not sure we really like each other. But we are drawn like moths to a flame.

I can say that we love each other, but that eventually feels a bit hollow. I think we both love what could have been, but 16 years in, that’s less of a possible outcome than a reality.

She had very different goals. She wanted kids. I wanted to avoid kids by all means. The timing of our divorce was to ensure Texas law didn’t rope me into child support (at five years, it doesn’t matter whether you’re the biological father – this is now your problem). My lawyer got us divorced mere days before hitting that cutoff.

My lawyer, of course, being one of my columnists in college. I think he was better at lawyering than writing, but hey, he was in Austin, and I needed a divorce.

It’s sort of crazy that Jonathan, a columnist I decided to give a shot at in the late '90s, would be my divorce attorney. Life can be funny sometimes.

All this notwithstanding, I am left with the reality with Nichol. Her phone is off because she paid for mine, and I don’t really care what your metric is there, but it seems pretty damn obvious.

I envy those of you who do not need friction to enjoy a relationship. Those sound nice. I can’t do that. Unless someone is mentally and physically challenging me, I’m bored.