What Part of, “I’ve Forgiven Him!” Don’t You Understand?

February 2015

My MIL called me last night. She was checking up on my husband because she hadn’t been able to get ahold of him. She knew he had planned on going to church and was saying that she hoped he continued to go and that it helped, and that she had heard he was supposed to see a psychiatrist and she hoped that helped, too. Then she went on to say she hoped he got better and that we got back to where we needed to be. What? Um, we’re fine. She went on about how the past was the past and I needed to forgive him and she was sorry for anything she might have done to me and she hoped I would forgive her. Everyone makes mistakes. And she knows it’s difficult because she went through it with her own husband years ago.

There are so, so many things I want to address in all of this mess. I’m not sure I can focus enough to get it all out there. But first, I HAVE forgiven him. I moved 2000 fucking miles across the country and completely uprooted my children and their lives, along with my own, in support of him. I would call that forgiveness. If I wanted to dwell on what he had done I would have never moved. Because, once again, our current town will always be Whoreville to me. I’m here because of my husband and his whore and their sweet little plans to be closer together. No matter how much I may come to like it here (and that’s doubtful) it will always be tainted by the fact they plotted to move my family here so they could carry on their affair. It was all put into motion once she started promising blow jobs and anal sex. I’m still here, still living with him. If I was going to kick his ass out I would have done it when I first found out he was still lying to me and cheating on me. I’m not softening him up for the blow. And I don’t believe in staying with a cheater and then using that to throw in the cheater’s face for the rest of his or her life. If you’re going to stay, make peace with the situation. I know some people say you can rebuild without forgiving, so I won’t say forgive and move on. But, you definitely need to make your peace with it and I have made my peace with him. I even do my best to not think about why I’m living here, 2000 miles away from my friends, my support system, my social life, my volunteer activities, because if I were to dwell on it I would cry. Harley and Zack fucked my life up spectacularly. Once my loving husband set the wheels into motion they didn’t stop just because he supposedly stopped fucking around with his whore of a cousin. Nope, they were going to send him (us) here come Hell or high water. So, you wanna play the past is the past? Oh, you bet your sweet ass it is. I’ve buried that motherfucker deep because I would be overcome with rage if I didn’t.

As for being sorry for whatever it is she’s done to me… well, that’s nice, but since you don’t even realize what it is that you did I’m not sure it means that much to apologize for it. And once again, I’ve made my peace with it. They will never change. I love them but I can’t have a relationship with them like I used to. I have tried and tried to envision a way that I’m ok with loving them, hanging around with them, visiting them, supporting them, sharing holidays, vacations, memories with them, and all the time knowing they love and support her, my husband’s whore. I will never feel safe. I know the minute he decides to toss me aside and replace me they will welcome my replacement with open arms and I don’t know how to have a relationship with people like that. I wish I could live in the moment, not worry about the what ifs. But when you’ve already been confronted with that I think it’s more difficult to pretend like it won’t happen. Everything about it just feels false. Oh, you love me. Oh, now you don’t love me because my husband no longer wants to fuck me. It’s not me they want to have a relationship with. It is my title. Whoever assumes the title of his wife is the one they want to have a relationship with. At this point I don’t even feel comfortable attending family events because I always assume the whore has been invited as well. And that would not end well. If we are ever in the same space I am about 99% certain everyone in that space will know exactly what she and my husband did. I find the whole situation sad. I find it sad that I am undoubtedly cast as the bad guy even though I was the one that was cheated on, and Zack and Harley were the cheaters. I’m the bad guy even though Jezebel was the one who lied to me, encouraged my husband to leave me, and talked trash about me. That’s just the way it is with them. Then you add in the humiliation factor, wondering if everyone is talking about you, your husband’s affair, how you compare to the sainted whore, how sad it is that you got cheated on and what on earth you did to “deserve” it. It’s an all around yucky feeling.

They are planning on coming to visit over Spring Break and I’m now waiting for her to come at me over Jezebel. The past is in the past. Everyone makes mistakes. Again, I’m trying to envision a way I’m ok with anything beyond superficial niceties and I’m once again coming up blank. How do you reconcile the fact that the person you are spending holidays with, confiding in, and creating memories with, will turn on you the minute her brother decides he wants to fuck someone else? Maybe it’s easier for her because she’s spent her whole life using people for what they can give her. So, she takes everything her in-laws can do for her and laps it up and when she moves on to the next husband it’s no big loss because now she has a new set of in-laws that can do new things for her. Or, to put it another way: It’s not about the relationship she shares with these people. It’s what all that relationship gives her. It would be like having a SIL that takes you on lavish vacations and shopping sprees. You like the person ok, but when the relationship ends you miss everything your SIL did for you a lot more than you miss the actual person. I even try to envision spending time with her on a superficial level. I say hello, how are you. When asked how I am I say, “Fine.” It doesn’t go beyond that. How are things in Whoreville? Fine. How are the kids adjusting? Fine. Just keeping everything superficial. Not excited about anything. I try to imagine having to go to her new house and be polite. Meet new people that I will only see every 3-5 years. I honestly believe I would hate it. I would feel like I was crawling out of my skin. Having to feign interest in everything she has and has done. You can’t be too noncommittal because then you’re considered rude and once again, you’re the bad guy. But treating her like someone I actually care about and have an interest in? I’m a good actress but I’m not that good. Besides, I don’t care if everyone knows the relationship has changed. Trying to imagine sitting outside at her fire pit. I suppose I would listen as everyone talked and not join in. Nothing to say. I would play the part of the uninvolved observer. Quietly listening and observing, not interjecting my own thoughts because I don’t wish to give anyone a glimpse of me. See? All of that seems so terribly complicated. So much easier to just stay away. There is no relationship so why create an artificial one? For her? Why? I don’t give a fuck about what she wants. She didn’t care about me and what I might have wanted. I’d like to return the favor.

Wow- ok, I think I did get most of it out. I can’t think of anything else really. I just keep trying to imagine these re-structured relationships and I have an incredibly hard time wrapping my head around it. It’s so much easier to avoid it.

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