Day Twelve

Today my sister, my rock, leaves.  I have to do this without her wisdom and guidance and I am afraid.  Twelve days ago he shattered my soul and I now I have to be around him, alone in our home, for the first time since.  He works tonight, then he takes the kids tomorrow to see his brother while I get ready for my trip home to Washington on Tuesday.  I took my sister to the airport and returned exhausted, not ready to do this alone.  He surprised me with how attentive he was, offered to bring me dinner on his way home from work, picked up beer and cuddled with me on the couch.  He seemed different, in a good way. Less withdrawn and more present.  I asked him to come to bed with me, instead of staying in the spare room and he declined. I asked him to “tuck me in” and he said he would but never showed. Again, his phone was with him all day and I have a feeling in my gut that says that this is weird, but I have to at least try to believe him when he says he isn’t doing anything wrong.

Day Eleven

Daddys home.  The day was long and tiring.  I emotionally prepared for his arrival, knowing that I had to pretend to be much more excited than I was (for the kids' sake) yet I actually felt a little excited.  The future is so unclear, he doesn’t even know if he wants to be with me, but at least he is home.  Not with her.  I left for the evening so he could be with the kids and not feel awkward, for them.  I returned to find him asleep on the couch and wanted so badly to curl up next to him. He woke up for a bit and hung out with my sister and I, we were drunk and he enjoyed our silliness.  He went to bed with his phone, which I thought was strange.  No, I am being crazy.  He couldn’t possibly be hiding any more from me.  My sister reassured me that he was probably just a little "gun shy" with it being his first night home.  This whole thing has made me question everything...

Day Ten

Today he will pick his mother up from the airport and tell her everything… well, at least I think he will tell her everything.  After that, we will go out to dinner again before he returns home tomorrow night.  I want him to call me or text me or email me or do SOMETHING to show that he is in this.  That he wants this.  I feel powerless and maybe the sexual activity last night was my trying to win him back.  Show him that I can give him what he needs.  I feel slightly dirty, like a one night stand just took place with my best friend and I don’t know how to face it.  At least he is not talking to her anymore.  She hasn’t made any contact with him and hopefully will be gone forever…

Dinner was great. We had the same chemistry as last night, except this time we went back to his hotel room for a bit before I headed home to relieve my sister of her babysitting duties.  What happened in the car on the way to the hotel was wild.  We did and said things that I would have never thought would happen.  Illegal things that could have gotten us into a car accident, except they all felt so good that we couldn’t stop.  At the end, while still laying in bed naked and he inside my body I burst into tears at the thought of the two of them together.  Did he touch her the same way?  Did he tell her how good it all felt?  I left in a daze, barely able to handle the terrible thunderstorm storm that awaited me.  As I drove home, I was pummeled by hail and cried relentlessly in my car.  I called him to be my savior, to talk me through the drive and I realized at that point that he was the only person I ever wanted to call to save me, but I didn’t trust him to follow through with it.

Day Nine

He comes home tonight, has been gone for 10 days and staying in a hotel for the next two nights so that we can figure out how to be around each other before he sees the kids.  I am picking him up from the airport and anxious about how he will be when he sees me.  Will he realize how much he loves me?  Will he realize how much he doesn’t, how much he loves her instead?  Has he missed her these past 10 days that he has not talked to her?  I have decided to my make first, of many, efforts in healing our relationship… I will park and be inside the airport when he gets off the plane (as opposed to sitting curbside waiting for him).  I worry that this decision sends a “doormat” message, that he will think he can get away with what he has done because I will be there.  I want him to see how strong I can be, how I feel that we can get through this, if he chooses me.

If he chooses me… How terrible does that sound?  I am the one who was betrayed, I am the one who feels lost and powerless, I am the one who is stuck with images of the two of them together, yet I am waiting to see if he chooses me.  That is not what I signed up for when I married him.  I signed up for a life of love and support, a life of honesty, a life of obstacles that we overcome together, not ones that bring him into the bed of another woman.  BUT, I signed up for better or worse… I have got to give this everything I have.  For me, for my kids, for my future relationships (should there be any).  THAT is what I am doing.  I am bettering myself for my own future, regardless of who chooses to share that with me.

We had dinner and drinks at a restaurant by the airport and at first the conversation was strained, talking about the whole situation, then it took a turn I never expected.  We flirted and fooled around.  I felt powerful, amazing.  I looked great and felt on top of the world, in a weird, insecure way.  I know that we have never had the sexual relationship that we each deserve and I decided, in an instant, to change that.  We made out like teenagers at the restaurant then finished up in the car before we went our separate ways, me to my home and him his hotel room.  I went to bed feeling renewed, sexually satisfied and hopeful.

Day Eight

My four year olds first dentist appt today.  She is strong willed and incredibly anxious about everything… afraid of everything.  I had to dig deep and muster the strength to get her through this visit.  We had been talking for weeks about it and I promised to get her a book on dentists from the library, but completely forgot to in the midst of the affair aftermath.  She, very unpolitely, reminded me of this on our way there and I knew it was going to be a disaster.  Yet another casualty in this horrible thing… my daughter now HATES the dentist.  Once she was in the chair, I tried to reason with her and bribe her to get her to let them brush her teeth.  She was not having it.  Out of frustration and emotional exhaustion, I burst into tears asking, no begging, her to just let them brush her teeth!  The dentist politely informed me that this was not going to help the situation and that from what he could tell her teeth were fine and that we should leave and try again in 6 months so she is not traumatized.  Too late.  She already thinks the dentist made me cry.

After a good public breakdown and massive guilt over what this is doing to my kids, I found an inner strength that I had no idea existed and went on with the rest of the day with my fake smile and loved the crap out of my babies. 

The evening brought on the extreme sadness, magnified that feeling in the pit of my stomach that wont go away and the fear of the moment that I had to go to bed.  Going to bed was the hardest part of my day anymore.  That is when my mind raced with realizations of the last few months since he began talking to her regularly.  Every night that he seemed quiet and distant I wondered if they had sex that day and if he was distant because he preferred her.  Was he withdrawn because he missed her?  Why wasnt I enough?  I remember one evening where he was constantly texting someone on the other end of the couch, it was probably her.  While I sat next to him, he was professing his feelings towards her, sending dirty messages and maybe even planning their future together.  While I sat next to him, I was begging him to pay attention to me, pleading for quality time together and wondering what I was doing so wrong that he was so withdrawn.  I was hurting and he didnt even notice, I was trying everything in my power to reconnect with him and he wasnt paying attention... he was thinking about and contacting her.

Day Seven

My sisters mission in all of this is to get me moving.  Out of the house, out running errands, taking the kids to the park… whatever!  We took a much needed trip to the grocery store, then paid attention to the kids.  I even made it a playgroup with all of my friends and took a picture of our son playing the drums and sent it to him.  He was so thankful for the picture, surprised that I would think to do that.  I did it out of habit.  I was in a fake good place in front of my playgroup friends and believed it for a moment. 

The evening went on like all of the others... put the kids to bed, drink wine and talk about it all.  No new developments, just a new sadness that is slowly taking over my body and my life.  I still cant eat, I have lost about five pounds in seven days, my heart races constantly and I am prone to sudden outbursts of both tears and uncontrollable anger.  He says he hasnt spoken with her, that its over.  He says he loves me, but still doesnt feel "in love" with me and he wants to move past the affair and fall back in love with me. I am hurting over the affair and now over his inability to be in love with me.  Shaking, I finally make it to sleep and dream of being with him at a wedding, then I am unable to find him.  I finally locate him in the bathroom with some girl named Tina (we dont even know a Tina).  I wake up sweating at 3am and cry until 5, when I get up to start the coffee.

Day five

A sad, sad morning.  Made the kids pancakes and all they did was talk abouit daddy.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs “Daddy fucked some other bitch!  Don’t you get that?!?  He is not worth your praise!!!” but I didn’t.  I told them how much he loved them and missed them and would never do anything to hurt them, even though he already had.

The day was spent in another daze, just trying to concentrate on my kids… my wonderful little reminders of the life their father destroyed.  Every night since this all began, we have ritually opened a plastic easter egg with a message from daddy.  Horrifying.  Every single night I have had to be reminded of what a great man he could have been had he not done all of this. 

The only saving grace to today was picking up my sister from the airport, except I decided to take his car instead of mine.  I sat in it, staring at the leather seats and looking for sex stains and dirty underwear.  I could only picture naked bodies rolling around the inside of a car that had previously only ever had my naked body in it.

Day Four

The reinforcements are on their way!  My best friend is making a 4 hour drive from Houston to spend the weekend saving me and my sister is flying from Washington tomorrow night for a week long assistance visit… assisting me in getting on with my daily life, not ignoring my kids and trying to put the pieces back together or build a new puzzle without him. 

The day was spent cleaning and getting ready to loaf around and sulk with my two best friends.  Busy days are the best anymore, they give me less chance to let it all sink in.  The evening turned into a drinking/smoking bitch-fest between two childhood friends, which was exactly what I needed.  We talked about all of his issues, came to terms with the fact that he may not be capable of loving me the way he should, went over the details that I was aware of and came up with strategies… work it out strategies and leaving him strategies.  We focused on all of my great qualities that any man would be lucky to have as a part of his life.  We cried, we got angry and we made off color jokes about the situation. 

I finally didn’t feel alone, I felt full of worth and great things and I realized that, should I decided to do so, I can go on without him.  I will be okay, dammit!  Its too bad that once I went to our bed, was in our bedroom and around his things I literally cried myself to sleep… waking several times in the night with a horrible feeling in my gut and an intense sadness.  I am thankful for those few hours of hopefulness that I felt, but wish they would have allowed me to sleep.

Day Three

This is the day that reality has set it.  I woke up feeling betrayed and lost.  I had to get out of the house, we needed groceries and I needed a reason to get dressed.  Big mistake.  I drove like a zombie, which was probably a bit dangerous for my kids.  As we walked through two different stores grabbing a handful of items from each, I worried that every girl I passed was her.  I thought about the details of their torrid affair, the long conversations they had while I sat at home taking care of our children and house.  I thought about how life would be without him.  I wondered if they would be together if I left him. All of this while ushering my four year old nad two year old through the Dollar Store and Target.  I made purchases I didn’t need and forgot the important ones I went there for.  I cried for a moment when a silly item reminded me of a once happy memory, which now made me sad.  I finished the shopping, drove through and purchased a bag of grease for my kids to eat for lunch and ran to my quiet home, which I vowed to never leave again.  At least not until I had to. 

I remained a zombie the rest of the day.  I stopped talking to my girlfriends for the afternoon as I was tired of talking about everything.  I had yet to have a full meal so I felt a little weak and crazy, so I tried to stomach a little food and tried to give my kids as much attention as I could. 

Today, I want to work it out.  I want to continue my life, I don’t want to turn it upside down.  I want to fight for this relationship that I spent the past five years building.  I want my kids to grow up never knowing that this happened.  I want to go to counseling and I don’t want him to move out.  But… how do I send him off to work everyday, knowing she’ll be there.  Knowing that that’s where they had sex.  Again, so confused.

Day Two

I poured my coffee, popped an advil and glanced in the mirror.  My face was swollen from the constant crying and lack of sleep, my eyes were bright red and my expression showed a broken, sad, mangled mess of a woman.  I had two hours to pull myself together before a friend dropped her 5 year old off for me to watch for the day.  In the midst of my morning routine, I went to text him as I usually do when I awake and he is gone.  This time I didn’t know what to say.  I thought about “Fuck You,” but realized that was a little harsh for me to type at 645 am.  I wanted to write “I love you and I miss you and I want this to all have never happened” but thought he was getting off too easy.  So, I settled with “I slept horribly… the wind was blowing and my mind was racing. You?”   He responded saying he slept horribly and I suggested that we write eachother letters over the next few days, putting on paper our feelings, plans for the future and anything else that we needed to get off of our chests.  He agreed and promised to get to work on it that evening.

Somewhere in the morning I decided to try on different hats throughout the next few days.  Today, I would wear the “Lets work it out” hat and see how it fits.  Tomorrow, the “Get the hell out and write me child support checks” hat.  And, if I am so inclined, one day maybe the “lets pretend he’s dead” hat.

The best thing that happened to me that day was that I didn’t flake on my friend when it came to watching her son.  I was forced to wear more of a smile and interact with the kids (ages 5, 4 and 2!).  The day consisted mostly of playing, eating and cleaning up from the playing and eating.  It kept me busy and I was actually able to eat a little and get my mind off of yesterdays massive betrayal.  I had a friend planning on driving up from Houston that Friday and my sister was flying in from Washington that Saturday to help me and be with me and support whatever decision I was going to make. I felt a little better, honestly.  I felt more in control and was able to stop picturing that naked whore with her body pressed against my husbands, well maybe to not picture it as much. 

That night took a turn for the worse. I spoke to him and he informed me that he had talked to the bitch and broke it off… again, in my masochistic quest for information I asked how she took it.  He said she cried.  She cried.  Which only means that it was more than sex, it was a relationship.  While it was a short relationship (my cyber stalking gave me phone records that indicated two months of regular lengthy phone calls between them, totaling over 700  minutes each month) it was enough to cry over.  I went to bed wondering what they talked about, what her expectations were and if she was actually going to be around forever.  What if she was pregnant?  He claimed to have used protection, but was that enough?  Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep.

Today, I have no clue what I want or should do.  My heart and my head are both sleep deprived and hungry, thus they are not communicating with me.  I am so confused.

Day One

I found out.  I was feeling suspicious due to recent problems in our relationship and checked his blackberry, hoping to find nothing and continue working out our disconnection with each other, which we had even started seeing a marriage counselor about.  Then the text… “thanks for the amazing sex…”  I was floored.  I slowly walked, although it seemed like I had floated, into the bathroom where he was getting ready to leave for a 10 day business trip.  Shaking, I stuttered the words “there is a t-t-text m-m-message about amazing sex… what d-d-did you d-d-do?” He instantly stopped what he was doing and the look on his face said it all.  Busted.  He kept repeating “What? Wait, Kendall, what?” as though he had no idea what I was talking about, waiting to see exactly how much I had seen.  I had seen enough.  He realized this and ran our poor innocent, amazing children down the hall and came back in to a broken, shattered woman lying in the fetal position on the floor, sobbing.  Then came the anger… violent rage like I had never felt before.  I kept hitting him and screaming at him that he ruined everything. He had just had sex with me that morning, less than 24 hours after penetrating HER body! Our family was destroyed.  How could he do this?  What did I do wrong?  Then I repeatedly asked him to leave, and he wouldn’t.  Instead he took our kids to a friends house and came back, wanting to talk.  What do we have to talk about?  I continued with my harsh, angry words and boughts of breakdown crying, telling him what a horrible man he was.  Telling him how disgusted his mother would be.  I even told him that I hope our daughter never marries a man like him nor do I want our son to ever be like him. We started talking about him getting an apartment, my going back to work and sending our defenseless kids to daycare just because he screwed some other woman and his income could not support two households. This went on for several hours, until he finally left for that business trip that afternoon.  I had never felt so exhausted, anxious, hurt and angry all at the same time.  I was certain it was over.  I felt confident that I could never trust him again but I didn’t want to send him back into her arms so I eluded that we may be able to work this out.  That’s what he said he wanted.  Me, him, our two kids all together forever.  He apologized over and over, but still admitted to sleeping with her several times over a two week period.  At the airport he opened the drivers side door, where I sat in a daze, to “say goodbye” to me and I couldn’t even look at him.  He said goodbye to the kids and away we went.  Once his flight left I started to process, and get even angrier.  I emailed the dirty whore who he slept with, told her what I thought of the two of them and asked, as politely as I could manage, if she could verify a few details.  Of course, there was no response. 

We returned home and I returned my normal “mom” duties and taking care of my gorgeous kids.  I was a zombie to those two, hardly able to brush their teeth before bed.  Then I booked two plane tickets.  One for my sister to come out in a few days then one for me to go home to Washington in two weeks.  He had already requested vacation time to spend time with his mother on her spring trip from Massachusetts and I was not about to pretend to be a happy family for her sake. 

Once the kids were asleep the reality of the day started to set in.  I drank a glass wine, turned to an old vice (cigarettes) and had a friend over to study the web for as much info n this amazing little slut that he had found.  I found all the details of their 750+ total minute phone conversations on my cell phone provider website.  I went to facebook and her yogurt shops website… she was pretty, had bigger boobs than I (which is not hard to do as I carry a 32A), and had a child of her own… and I became insane with a thirst for details.  I wanted to know everything, so I called him.  How many times?  Where?  Did you like her boobs?  Did she talk dirty to you?  I don’t know what I was going to gain, aside from a more vivid mental picture, and didn’t care.  I needed some questions answered.  He obliged and let me have my crazy, with a small warning that this is not going to be easy to hear.  It wasn’t.  It almost killed me.  I no longer wanted to know, but now I did.  He said they slept together 7 times, that she meant nothing, he got caught up in it all and that it was over between them.

Bedtime came and I lay in bed, my mind racing, my body aching and my stomach feeling the effects of 3 glasses of wine on a completely empty, anxious stomach.  I felt sick and so very tired.  I tossed and turned, every time I woke I thought about it.  Every time I turned over towards his side of the bed, I thought about it.  After several hours of attempted slumber, I called it quits and made my coffee.

Today, I want him gone.  I cant even stand looking at his pictures, I cant imagine my life spent looking at his face forever.  The only reason that I haven’t packed his clothes is that, sadly, I have been through this before and I know that in a few days I could change my mind.  I don’t want to lose my life, but I don’t think I can trust him.  I am aching all over.