In reference to my observation that Ron’s exes haven’t seemed real interested in getting back in touch, Peter remarked tonight that I haven’t left a trail of happy priors myself.
Well, I have no idea about that, really. I can only remember the full names of four of them. One is apparently doing very well, has a great job and two kids and is still married to the same woman he was dating when we met. At least two others haven’t fared so well: one was booted from his tenured faculty position back in the eighties and another one died some years ago.
I went to a hypnotherapist last week to see if she could help me retrieve any memories from when Ron and I met, but it wasn’t very successful.
So, given the holes in my brain, unless they track me down themselves, my priors’ opinion of me remains a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Or some variant thereof.