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When I got back to our apartment two weeks later, Cynthia was gone. Her father and a friend of his retrieved Cynthia, our son, and our daughter to-be. I returned to a mostly empty apartment. Once again, what I thought would bring a sense of freedom was just the ball-and-chain of selfishness renewed. I felt it in my soul; I had made a significant turn. My sense of self-sufficiency in all things reared its fickle head to tell any other remnant of rightness that it was not welcome. And I made sure of that by later signing divorce papers.

The work I did in North Dakota must have made an impress...