Day Ninety One

Managed to crawl out of bed on my own today and made it to church... of course we were late so we were seated in the middle of a crowded aisle and behind the tallest person in Texas.  Attempting to move my neck to see the pastor was incredibly painful, but I kept doing it, I couldnt help it. 

Todays sermon was about praying, the power of prayer and the fact that we basically need to annoy God with our incessant praying to get what He thinks we need out of it.  The visiting pastor talked a lot about Gods plan for us and about how, when our prayers arent answered, there is a reason for that and only God knows that reason.  I cant help but think about God putting me in this position AGAIN and what positive outcome I am supposed to experience from having my heart blown to a million tiny pieces. Whatever it is, I am closer and closer to surrendering my whole life to Him to get the answers.  Today was the first day I didnt cry in church, instead I left very determined to annoy Him with my prayers so that I can finally be heard and he will finally bring me some peace.  Throughout all of this affair nonsense, I havent had a moment of peace.   

Day Eighty Five

Sunday.  Church.  I love going, but there is something about it that makes me really emotional lately.  I wish he was one of these good faithful christian men that sit with their arms around their wives and stay true to their vows.  I wish he felt a connection with God that would have stopped this all from happening.  I wind up spending most of the service with tears slowly running down my cheeks as I try not to break down into convulsing sobs.

After the service, I performed my usual routine...  quickly excused myself to the restroom to dry my eyes and pretend as though I didnt cry during the closing songs.  I know he knows I am doing it, but I appreciate that he doesnt acknowledge it.  It doesnt always need to be acknowledge.  Sometimes I just need to suffer in silence and I am pleased that he is starting to realize how to deal with me. 

Why I am the one that has to be "dealt with?" I hate being the victim.  I didnt do anything wrong and I am suffering every day for this.  Its bullshit.

Day Sixty Seven

Went to church this evening and, as usual, my head starting filling with all sorts of questions while the pastor was speaking.  For some reason, I feel powerful, able and confident in church.  The thoughts that cross my mind are always ones where I am in charge, I make the decisions, I call the shots.  They are usually ones that revolve around him leaving and me turning out just fine.  The thoughts are always about me deserving to be with one of these godly men among us, instead of this unholy, selfish, disgusting man.  I want to be with someone who LOVES me.  I just don’t always believe that he does.

After church, we have made it a ritual to find a quiet place to talk during the music worship, before we have to get the kids.  Today I asked him “Do you think there is anyone out there that you could love more than you love me?” To this he answered no.  So I asked “Is there anyone you could ever love just as much as me?”  He answered shortly, no. Then silence.  Then he started an entirely new conversation topic.  I couldn’t even look him in the eye, and he knew he had steer back.  So he did, he asked what brought those questions on and I answered, tears running down my face.  “Don’t you ever think we are wasting our time?  Don’t you want to find someone you love enough to not do this to?  You say I am the love of your life, yet you have never cheated on anyone before, so have you loved those women more than me?  I don’t know what you are going through because you don’t talk to me.  I don’t know if you are able to pretend that nothing happened and move on, because if you are tehn you obviously don’t understand how wrong you were in this.”  And so on… Then, the congregation was dismissed, he sat quietly, blankly (his usual confronted way) and I said “lets go get the kids, you obviously have nothing to say.” And that was it.  Nothing.  The rest of the evening was spent hardly recognizing eachothers existence.  We took the kids to get ice cream and had a great time as a family, but something was definitely lacking between us.  Here I go again, feeling like I am damaging our relationship with my big mouth questions, feeling at fault for bringing it up and worried that I am just driving him back into her arms for more comfort or whatever that little slut gave him. 

Bedtime arrived and I found myself lying next to this man who cant even tell me how sorry he is, or how much he loves me.  I cried a little more, and he reached out and held me.  He said he doesnt know what to do, that he IS sorry that he DOES love me but thinks he is showing it rather than saying it.  It all makes me wonder if my expectations of what remorse looks like are just a little too high.  I dont know what to do either. 

Day Forty One

Failure.  I couldn’t help it today.  I had a stupid question about the affair and it sat in my head all day, marinating in my crazy and I couldn’t help but ruin our evening with it.  It was such a stupid question that I would rather forget it and not write it down.  Why do I keep doing this to myself?  I actually read about hypnotherapy on the internet today, considering for a moment what it would be like to hypontise this shit out of my head.  I realize its not possible, but it sure feels good to think about a life where this is not always present, making me crazier. 

The day was great, though.  Our family has gotten much closer through out this, we have spent so much quality time together (and eaten so much ice cream!).We went to church, then a rare trip to the grocery store where he got to finally see what monsters our kids turn into during the painful process of stocking our home with food. After, we went to the park to enjoy the last bit of decent weather before summer starts then spent the rest of the day getting odds and ends done around the house.  It really was a beautiful Sunday, just like they are supposed to be in families who dont betray eachother and ruin everything for some rich little skank.  These thoughts are the ones that stupidly made me bring up the infamous question that sent this beatiful Sunday careening down a steep hill, on fire, into a pit of burning lava.   

The evening sucked, for lack of a better word, but at least the day was great.