Day Twenty Seven

We woke up cuddling and loving eachother.  We had breakfast as a family and went to church, for the first non-holiday service we have ever attended.  At church, I prayed for strength and the ability to keep my mouth shut for one whole day.  I swore to God that I would not bring up the affair, not ask any of the questions that had weighed on my mind and enjoy my family as much as I could.  I was successful!  We spent the entire day together, a trip to the library, lunch at a restaurant, watched last nights movie while the kids napped then ran some errands, had dinner and went out for ice cream.  It was one of the greatest days we have had, with only a few moments of silent sadness on my part.  I quietly worked through the rushes of doubt and depression that I felt throughout the day and powered through the images.  I only hope that every day in our future will be this way, minus the moments of silence I had to take to get through my emotions. 

I realize that he must heal as well.  He feels terrible about it and I cant continue to make him feel worse.  I wish he could feel the way I do, for just a moment, to see how badly I hurt and how horribly I feel about myself.  He cant.  He will never know this because I will never do this to him.  But, I cant berate him with my sadness, I need to find out a new way to deal with this that no  longer effects him.  I checked out books from the library on how to deal with infidelity and I will read them and learn from them.  I must allow him to heal, no matter how hard that is. 

Day Twenty Four

Today I sent him off on another business trip, back to St Louis where the affair traveled with him.  They stayed in a hotel together, spent a night in each others arms and I am left with the visions of it all.  Dinner out together, waking up with each other, a little action before the workday started, a trip to the zoo together while I was visiting family in Washington. My dead fathers birthday and he wasn’t even thinking about me.  A huge fight with my mother and he was with her when I needed him to be there for me.  He chose her over me.  He chose her over our children.  How do I sleep tonight knowing he is in the hotel where they spent such enchanted fucking evenings together?!?! She slept in the same bed as the pillow he travels with, the pillow that lives in our bed.  I realized that he had, for the first time, asked for a new pillowcase before the trip he took her on.  Gross.  He was preparing to be with her, to share a bed with her while we were standing in our bedroom with our children.  Now, he is in a city where I have never been, where there are only memories of her all around him.  I realized that, at a time when they were probably in bed together, I was singing his praises to my girlfriends about him and our life together.  What a fool I am.

So, I took this opportunity to search his car.  I looked at every piece of paper, every little piece of trash to search for clues that he is still talking to her.  I found a tshirt from the yogurt shop she owns, which I threw away, and that was it.  While it was anticlimactic, it was also a little bit of reassurance.  Either he is done or he is much better at hiding it. 

The day went on in a blur… I tried so hard to not think about any of this and concentrate on our children.  My poor kids have no idea whats going on, but they sense the tension and my absence and are acting out as a result.  They did not deserve this.

When they talked about spending their lives together, did they even consider the kids?  Does this girl know how hard it is to have TWO kids, let alone three (adding in her young son)?  Were they going to get custody then hire a fancy nanny to care for my kids while I was stuck in an apartment somewhere pining for my children?  Do they even know what to do with my daughters incredibly curly hair?  How about my sons excema… were bleach baths or oatmeal creams in their future too?  She told her mom about him.  He was excited that she did, wondered what she said.  This was a few days before he chose me. 

A late night phone conversation brought on more tears and anger.  I realized that several weeks ago when I called him from WA while she was visiting him in St Louis, I was crying and upset that he had the entire day off and never contacted me.  During this, he just sat on the other end of the phone, not saying much.  I was begging and pleading with him that I needed him and I loved him and I wanted to get through what we were referring to as our “disconnect” and he said very little, quietly.  She was there, with him.  I poured my heart out that day and she was sitting there, in my relationship, damaging my family and my soul and nobody showed any signs of guilt.  He said to me, in our conversation tonight, that he is sick of talking about it all the time.  Doesn’t he realize that I am much more sick of LIVING it?!?!?

Day Twenty Three

Not a horrible day, I actually accomplished quite a bit.  I had a few good meals and even went most of the day without feeling sick.  The evening was a different story, more conversations about the horrible thing he did.  I am constantly playing a timeline back in my head and have concluded that every time I thought he was distant, it was because he didn’t want to be with me.  He preferred her.  He would text on the couch, with his body turned away from me.  It was probably her.  He rarely sat next to me, he never kissed me when he came home from work and seemed hardly interested in sex, turning down my advancements on more than one occasion.  I cant stop berating him with my anger.  I cant stop trying to make him feel horrible, its not even intentional… I just want somebody to hurt as bad as I do. 

We went off to bed and tried to fool around, while his fingers were inside me I wretched.  I couldn’t stop playing back in my head pictures of him in her body.  How did she taste?  What did she do for him?  What did they say in throws of passion?  He stopped and asked if I was ok, I said no.  We lay there for a bit and talked, I tried to push the awful images out of my head but they just kept rushing back.  Finally, we kissed a little, then a lot.  He said “We can just kiss, its ok” and with that, those few words, I felt safe with him for a moment.  I felt aroused at that and we had great sex, close sex, the kind where your bodies are so close that you feel like one person.  But, as soon as we were finished, I wondered if they had ever had that, had they ever made love like that?

Day Twenty One

After an amazing family day at the zoo, then some shopping we came home and the kids and he played in the backyard while I vacuumed the living room.  While moving the vacuum across the floor, I saw it.  His work laptop staring me in the face with his work email open, the only thing I couldn’t access on a regular basis.  I didn’t want to ruin the day, but feared it might be my only chance to catch him in a lie, which is my new hobby. 

I started looking through more emails, sent ones from his work computer.  I found out MORE lies.  She was with him on a business trip at the beginning of March, stayed for three days.  He had a day off on that trip and he was with her.  He told her he loved her.  He made promises of a life with her.  I discovered that the sexual relationship was MUCH longer than two weeks, the original lie.  Its all lies.  I cant do this anymore.  Shaking, I left the house, drove to the grocery store and bought a four pack of small chilled wine bottles, a pack of cigarettes and a cup to pour the wine in then sat in a desolate park and cried.  Once I realized that I was about to start feeling the effects of the wine I returned home and snuck into the backyard to try to figure this all out.  How can he tell me he loves me and bold face lie to me?  How can this all be happening?!?!?!?!?  I understand that what I found was just more intimate details of what I already knew, but he still keeps lying.  I asked if she was in St Louis, he said no.  She was. I asked if they ever went out anywhere, he said no.  They did.  I asked if they spent the night together, he said no.  They did.  He told me that every sexual encounter took place at his work, he lied. So, when I ask if they have talked recently, do I believe him?  How do I get there?  How do I move past this when there are still so many lies out there?

We talked about the information I found, he told me it was pointless to be searching.  Apparently he doesn’t understand that I am not only looking for proof that he is still cheating, I am also looking for proof that he ISNT.  He is sneaky and a liar… I have to make sure I cover all of my bases. He snuck around behind my back for TWO months, lied, had a fucking mini vacation with her and came home to me.  I have no idea what he is capable of and I have to search everything to make sure he is not still doing this.  I am also looking for the truth about my life for those two months where everything was a lie.  When he came home and didnt kiss me its because he wanted to kiss her.  When we had sex he wanted her.  How do I get to a place where I feel that I am the only one he wants?

Day Twenty

Family Sunday.  The kids woke up and we had breakfast, went to church and hung out with his family.  His mother is still in town (until tomorrow morning) and we invited his brother and his family to our house to swim and have dinner.  It was nice, I’ll admit, to pretend that nothing was wrong especially since he was so affectionate and loving that I had a few brief moments during the day where I felt almost a little happy.  Unfortunately, those moments were few and fleeting.  It gave me hope, though.  Maybe as the days go on, I will gradually feel better, have longer and more frequent moments of happiness and maybe, just maybe, go a whole day without imagining their naked, sweaty bodies bumping up against one another while they orgasm and his fluids rush into her body instead of mine. An entire day without thoughts of his love confessions to her and of his chosing to be with her over me.  24 hours without moments of realizations about the absolute lie that my life was for two months.  One day without wondering if I chose the wrong man.

Day Eighteen

Spent the day with my sister and a good friend, having lunch, shopping and getting pedicures.  They both were so very supportive, urging me to work it out, telling me that he was not a bad man, but a good man who did a bad thing.  Unfortunately, they don’t even know the half of it.  As far as they know, he slept with her for two weeks and still talked to her after he told me he wasn’t.  They don’t know that he told her he loved her, that they had plenty of things to keep them occupied for the next “50 years” and that he led her to believe that he was leaving me.  I couldn’t bare to have them see him the way I had to.  I hadnt told them what had happened a few days ago.

They both had so many encouraging things to say… if he could change into a man who could do this to his family, then he could change back into the man he once was.  A quote from my grandma… “People always say that people don’t change, but that’s all people do is change.”  He is not a man who would tell me he is in love with me and 150% committed to our relationship if he didn’t really mean it.  Most importantly, if he does this again he is gone and he realizes this and wont do it again, for fear of losing me… the woman he really does love.

After our day of pampering, my sister and I went out for cocktails and I had a renewed sense of faith in our relationship and the prospect of rekindling our love, that was once true and real.  It can get there.  Perhaps it may even be better.  That’s what the wine convinced me of, at least.

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.