Was He Always Cheating?

I don’t know why but a thought suddenly popped into my head. I hadn’t thought about this in years. It didn’t even occur to me either time I was finding out about Harley’s glorious presence.

Waaaaaay back in the beginning of our marriage, like year 2 or 3, I remember seeing an email from him to what was obviously another woman. He was complimenting her breasts and asking for more pictures.

I know what you’re thinking.

Jesus Christ, Sam! You said you thought he’d never cheat on you. The real head scratcher is how on earth you thought he wouldn’t cheat on you?

What can I say? I’m slow in the driveway. I found out five years ago (twice in a three month period!) that he’s capable of betrayal. I’ve been living through this shit show for the last three years. I’ve been busy. With all this trauma I’ve been dealt I think I might have repressed the memory.

Do you want to hear the story or not? I thought so. Let’s stop picking on me and concentrate our efforts on him.

It’s been twenty years or so; the story is a little faded at this point, but some details remain sharp. I remember coming across the email and being hurt, pissed, and horrified. I remember thinking, “Oh God, I need to lose weight! I’d better get started before it gets out of control; right now it’s not so bad, just a few pounds. But if I keep ignoring it he may find someone else and I’ll be wishing I had started losing weight back when I first found out his attention had started to wander.” That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?

I’m pretty sure this happened at the same time we had tickets to go see Patty Loveless. I know we were not talking and I so badly wanted us to be able to communicate. I’m pretty sure we weren’t talking because of this.

When we finally did start talking he told me it was pictures he had seen online. I questioned why he emailed her then and his response was that this was the way it worked. You complimented their pictures in the hopes that they would send you more. That’s all it was. He didn’t know her. He hadn’t ever met her. She was some woman on the Internet, posting naked pictures of herself.

I wasn’t happy about it, and I let him know that, but I bought the explanation. It has stayed safely tucked away for twenty years.

Until now. Now I realize I was quite naive. I so solidly bought into this idea that he was loyal and would never cheat on me, that even when the signs were there I couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

Maybe he was telling the truth and this really was some amateur (or not so amateur) Internet porn star. Maybe he had never met this person. Or, maybe it was a co-worker. I don’t think he ever met up with this person, although why I should give him the benefit of the doubt is beyond me. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Once again I am shown that he was never the person I thought he was. The signs were always there. I was oblivious to them.

I know it’s a fruitless question but I’m left wondering, “Was he ever faithful to me, or was he cheating from Day 1?” The positive side of this is that I keep being given ample evidence that he sucks. It also proves that whatever it is that Harley thinks she’s got, she doesn’t. That man has deep, dark secrets and they just keep coming.

It’s like the scene in Men In Black when the alien takes over Edgar’s body. CF wears a suit of lies. It looks like everything you want. It looks like someone faithful and loyal. Someone who has achieved great things and has much success. Someone who values a partner and a family. It reflects back whatever it is you want. It’s an illusion. The person CF claims to be isn’t real. He’s just an alien in an Edgar suit.

 

 

Hurt

The mobster and I were talking one day about the topic of being hurt by infidelity. I responded that CF didn’t hurt me. He pissed me off. He then went on to ask, “You were never hurt by his behavior?”

I had to think about that and I had to go way back to when all this crap first started, back in 2013.

I was extremely naive in 2013. I still thought I was married to an upstanding, honorable guy. A guy who understood and believed in things like: honor, commitment, marriage, fidelity. I never in a million years thought he would cheat on me. How stupid is that? I know I’ve said before that I figured maybe he would one day leave me, but I never thought he’d cheat. STUPID!

So back to me finding out something hinky was up five years ago….

When I first discovered him there, shriveled up in our bathtub, rocking himself back and forth and giving a performance of a lifetime in his self-written, self-directed, self-starring (naturally) play, “Anxiety, Thy Name Is Cousinfucker” I couldn’t begin to imagine what the problem might be. When he tearfully told me, in a whispered voice, “I’ve been texting other women,” the bottom dropped out of my world. I was absolutely shell shocked. This was simply not something that he would do. He had just told me less than 6 weeks prior that he loved me and he had always loved me.

I was so stupid and so naive that I actually convinced myself that he was probably only confessing because he felt guilty that he had actually talked to other women about our marriage. Yes, that’s how far my head was stuck in the ground. I foolishly thought he felt guilty about merely talking to other women, maybe confiding in them about our marriage. At that moment it never occurred to me that he was sexting or saying, “I love you,” to his whore cousin, or making plans for a future with her.

No, it took another whole week or so and a little bit of mind fucking from the whore before I began to suspect that maybe his texting hadn’t been so innocent after all.

I don’t recall feeling hurt back then though. I was sad. I was sad about my marriage potentially ending. I was sad about disrupting my kids’ lives. I was sad about the implosion of a 17 year relationship. I was sad that I had let things get to that point (and yes, at that point I was willing to shoulder almost all of the blame). I remember crying. I remember wanting things to go back. I remember wanting our marriage to work out and to be restored. I remember wanting him to love me again. But I don’t remember being hurt, or feeling hurt. Sadness was my overwhelming emotion.

Yet I spent the next three months trying to show him what life could be like for us. I spent the next three months “pick me” dancing, trying to cautiously woo him back. I rejoiced when he tenderly fed me a piece of tenderloin he had grilled. I was thrilled with every seeming loving gesture from him. He never said, “I love you,” and I didn’t say it either as I didn’t want to push him and “scare him”.

I wasn’t completely sure the whore was gone at first. She was very good with the mind fuck- posting little inspirational quotes, liking his pictures. And then came the day I believed she was gone for good and we were back on track. Followed shortly by her husband contacting me and letting me know they were still at it.

Hurt? Oh, honey, I was pissed! There was no hurt. There was only fury. “What in the fuck are you doing and why are you doing it? Are you seriously willing to give up your wife and kids for your cousin? She’s a fantasy, not reality.”

I was not nice. I was not calm, although I wasn’t as out of control as one would think I might be. Hey, I had a party to throw; I would not disappoint Rock Star. I yelled. I told him outright that he needed to shit or get off the pot, that I deserved to be happy, too, and I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to dump me when Picasso graduated from high school.

I felt certain that divorce was imminent. I didn’t think he would “pick” me. I was pretty certain after I issued my ultimatum (you end it now or we’re done) that he was going to pick her (and he did- it just took him two more years of wasting my life and completely destroying the lives we all had out in Utah before he could do it). But I remember being so happy when I got the text message that he was going to end it, that he didn’t want to lose any of us. Blech! I should have left his sorry ass back then and saved myself a whole lot of trouble.

I had sadness when I thought my marriage was over. I had fury/anger when I realized he had been duping me all summer long. But I can’t say that he ever hurt me. His behavior the first time stunned me but it didn’t hurt me. His behavior the second time pissed me off.

I think what actually hurt me more than anything was realizing what a bunch of complete assholes his family was. They never cut the whore off. I was disposable; she was not. It took me a very long time to wrap my mind around that. Naturally, just as I began to forgive them and gradually allow them back into my life he cheated once again and they, once again, were done with me and fawning all over and supporting his union with Harley.

Fast forward two years and once again I find out he’s cheating. Again I’m in disbelief. Not hurt. Frantic. Juggling twenty million things. Keeping all those plates spinning. Thinking about the situation financially and not with my penis.

Seriously- he had been a mess for more than six months. He had emotionally drained me. I was perpetually in fear that he was going to have a massive breakdown and we would end up bankrupt. He had moved us 2000 miles across the country because this job was supposed to make him happy and he was so miserable out in Utah, and yet here he was less than a year later, crying in bed and supposedly unable to function. I don’t know why but I had this feeling that he was once again involved with the whore. I was probably right.

I wasn’t sad; I was suicidal. I wasn’t suicidal because the great love of my life might be off and running with the whore. I was suicidal because I could not take anymore of his shit- the crying, the drinking, the unhappiness, shutting himself off from the rest of us, breaking down every time we turned around, unable to take him anywhere, never able to make him happy, watching all of our dreams collapse around our feet in this new place with no friends and no support. I was mentally exhausted. I had been sold some magic beans, but unlike those beans that led to the goose that laid the golden eggs, my beans were old and rancid and led to nothing except total destruction.

I had kept trudging on. I would put my head down and keep going. We would fix this. We would be happy once again, like we had been. All those dreams we talked about when we talked about moving would become a reality. I was convinced I could do it by sheer will power alone. Until I could no longer do it.

I remember getting that message from The Saint, and my heart sinking. It didn’t break; it sank. Now I had to figure out what the hell I was going to do. Keep those plates spinning!

He had no worries. He didn’t care about what would happen to the house. He didn’t care about the upheaval the kids would experience. He didn’t think about the pool we had just put in our backyard, or the money we had spent decorating and furnishing this new house. He didn’t think about the new car he had just bought for me, or the two new kittens we had, or the new cell phone company we had just switched to. He was fucking his cousin. The world was his oyster! No, I was left to worry about those things.

So no, once again, I was not hurt. I was in a panic. I had kids to worry about and protect. I was worried about the house. Our mortgage was less than a year old and I had no idea how I would ever be able to afford to maintain this house on my own. I didn’t know if I would get enough in support to pay the mortgage, much less be able to replace a furnace or air conditioning unit if necessary. How would I make repairs to the house and keep the yard and pool up? I worried about how we were going to pay off the pool and our other debts. I worried about whether or not the kids would be attending their current schools or I would have to uproot them once again and move in with my mom. While I was tasked with letting Rock Star and Picasso know that their parents were getting a divorce, he was off having another fuck-fest weekend with Harley the Whore.

I kept the house clean, went grocery shopping, made breakfast and dinner for my kids, chauffeured my daughter, and took care of the dogs and cats. I stayed involved in their schools and activities, and paid the bills and went on field trips with them, while I also worried about finding a job and what I was going to do, how I was going to find insurance once the divorce was final, and learning how to live on a whole lot less than we had been living on. There wasn’t time to be hurt. I was trying to survive.

Sure, there were moments when I wept. There were moments of sadness, like when I realized our house wouldn’t be decorated outside and hers would, because he had always done the outside decorations. He did nothing for us; everything was about her and her kids. Or when I felt sure I was going to be alone forever and he, a complete and total anti-social fuck up had someone new already. Or finding out how deep his betrayal had run- all the lies about the money being sent to his mom, phones being purchased for her, a joint bank account with the whore and the rest of his stock cashed in and given to her.

Him losing his job and forcing us to move was devastating, but I can’t say it was hurtful. It was yet another blow and another shit sundae I was forced to eat while he was off doing whatever the fuck he wanted. You know how that makes me feel? Angry!

Everything that has happened since June 10th, 2016 has enraged me. Forcing us out of our home, leaving me to be the one to tell our kids that we were going to have to move again, a mere two years later, having to sell off all of my belongings, moving in with my mom and sleeping on the couch, having to watch Rock Star cry as she realized she wouldn’t be getting her license on time, watching Rock Star struggle at school, working two jobs and still barely able to afford much of anything, stocking shelves at Target, getting up at 1:30, 2:30 and 3:30 in the morning to go to work, not being able to support myself, watching my kids suffer, wondering if he was going to get away with everything and not have to pay squat in support, hearing all the lies he and his family have spread about me, losing time with my kids, always being tired and feeling like a failure at this mom gig, learning about all the money those two nitwits spent while my kids and I lived like paupers. It was infuriating, but not hurtful.

The reality is, at least the second time around, I lost every bit of feeling I ever had for him the moment I discovered what he was up to. He didn’t hurt me; he disgusted me.

I have a visceral reaction to this idea that I write the things I do because I’m hurt. Nope. I write the things I do because I’m pissed off when I think about all the hell that asshole put me through. I write the things I do because I hope that someone who has just discovered a cheating spouse will come across my blog and read my story and not make the same stupid mistakes that I did. I hope they will see the futility in it and that they will do the sane thing and get the fuck out. I hope those that choose to stay will read my story and be able to discern the difference between being truly sorry and wanting to avoid any painful consequences. That when their spouse tries to blame them for the affair, or refuses to tell them the truth when asked for it, or when they want to avoid the topic of the affair, that they can say, “This is unacceptable. We’re doing it my way or you’re getting the fuck out because I’m not dealing with your shit.”

Hurt has never been a part of my story. I’ve been sad, I’ve been despondent and suicidal, and I’ve been angry, pissed, enraged… pick your adjective. This past year I’ve been hopeful and very, very happy. Yet I don’t think there will ever come a day when I just shrug at his antics. I don’t think I will ever get to the point where I am not pissed off about everything he put us through and everything he took from us. He changed the course of our lives; he changed our destinies and altered our futures. There is so much that he took, so much that he altered. I have hope for my kids that they will be able to forge a new future, despite what their father has chosen to do to them, and yet I still feel the very real pain of everything they’ve lost. This is not the life I would have chosen for them and I will always regret the things they missed out on, no matter how the future plays out. I do not hurt when I look at the ruins of our lives, but I do mourn.

Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!

August 2015

Texted him good morning around 11 and then that he would need to pick up Rock Star from cheerleading tomorrow.  He finally texted back around 3:30 so I asked him if he was on the road.  No, not yet.  I texted him around 5 to ask if he was on the road again or if he was just going to stay another day.  Haven’t heard back from him.

Then, since I’ve been keeping track of all our expenses I checked the account.  Another $228 to Wal-Mart.  In Whore Town.  Surely he can’t be that stupid, can he?  He said before he didn’t know why it would say Whore Town because she had bought stuff in a different city.

I hate this!  He won’t be home until at least 11. Probably later.  And I don’t give a shit how tired he is tomorrow.

Next fucking time he goes to his home state I’m trailing his ass down there.  I don’t care how I have to do it.  I’m sick of this.  I’m sick of being a basket case.  I’m sick of wondering why the hell his phone is tied to his side.  I’m sick of wondering if he’s going to leave me or if he no longer loves me.  He better not have brought me here only to turn around and leave me.

And it gets better.  Jezebel posted pictures of her and Zack, captioned a surprise visit from my brother.  Haven’t seen him in almost 2 years.  Not only does Harley like the pictures, but her sister says, “I seen him at the family reunion.  It had been years!  It was great to see him.  So glad you all got to get together.”  WHAT?  What fucking family reunion?  I’m hoping it was autocorrect and she meant she say it has been years.  It damn well better be.  I mean, I know his cousin died.  That’s not in dispute.  But I guess the funeral really could have taken place on Friday at 1 and then he could have gone to this family reunion.

 

The Day Before D-Day

August 2015

No better today.  I ended up texting him around 8 last night.  Got no reply so I called.  He was napping.  He’s not planning on leaving until around 2 or 3 this afternoon.  I got to see pictures of him and Jezebel on FB.  Always good to know he’s hanging around her.  My mom is pissed since I told her he’s no longer seeing his psychologist and he went to His home state again.  I’m not very happy about it either.  I can’t stand confrontation but I’m not sure how else things will move forward.  How does he not see it’s wrong to stay holed up in the bedroom while he’s home, ignoring me and the kids, but he can drive to his home state for a funeral of a cousin he has barely spoken to in 20+ years?  He’s planning on driving to see Blockhead soon and then he’s going to his fucking reunion in October.

I’m tired of being portrayed as the bad guy.  I’m not the one who cheated.  I’m not the one who lied all summer long.  I’m not the one who hasn’t been around for years at a time.  I’m not the one encouraging people to leave their spouse.  So why the hell am I the one feeling like I have to fix everything?

I’m picking Rock Star up at noon and then I think I’m taking a pill to help calm my nerves.  I keep telling myself to breathe and to slow down.  He loves me.  He fears every day that I’m going to leave him.  He’s not having an affair.  You don’t have all the facts and you’re going off half cocked.  I’m just ready to die and the only thing that keeps me going is my kids.  I can’t do that to them.

 

Two Days Before D-Day

August 2015

It’s now 5:41 and I have yet to hear from my dear husband today.  I decided to wait it out and see if he would text me first.  I guess not.  I guess it completely slips his fucking mind that him being in his home state, a mere one hour away from HER might cause ME just a wee bit of anxiety.  Along with his staunch refusal to take either of the kids.  I think I’m going to take a pill tonight.  I just can’t function.  I’m on autopilot and thinking about crashing my car again.  Am I being totally ridiculous with wanting some contact?  I was looking at old texts from him, sent just a year ago and they are so damn different than what I get now.  Maybe it’s all the newness wearing off.  Maybe he was just missing me seeing as how we were apart.  But I miss it.  I miss what he turned into for that short amount of time.  And I’m getting pissed because he has done squat to keep in touch.  I keep telling myself that he wouldn’t cash in pretty much all of his stock on this swimming pool only to turn around and leave me.  I keep telling myself that I don’t know that Blockhead is telling him to divorce me.  I just don’t freaking know anything anymore.  He’s making me crazy and at least one of us needs to stay sane for these kids!

Present Day Sam Says:  He was probably too busy setting up his joint checking account with Harley to get back to me. Oh, and an hour away from her? No, she was there at the funeral with him. It’s date night, y’all! Complete with his mommy as chaperone and introducing her to everyone in his family!

Writing this right now makes me realize that everyone in his damn family knew that our marriage was over and that I was being replaced before I ever had a clue. Talk about humiliating.

 

Three Days Before D-Day

August 2015

… I’ve been texting with Zack.  The funeral was supposed to be today at 1.  He tells me today that the funeral was changed to tomorrow at 3.  Am I wrong in thinking he is really expecting a lot from me?  I mean, he goes to his home state alone.  He’s a mere 60 minutes from Harley.  He never seems to have great service when he’s there so texts don’t get answered right away and there’s not a whole lot of communication anyway.  A fucking funeral gets moved to a completely different day and time and I’m expected to just go along with the flow and not question anything, not have any worries.

I think that’s what’s been bothering me.  Not only does he want to move on, focus on the future, not dwell on the past… but also I’m supposed to do the same.  I am not allowed to heal at my own pace without making him feel bad.  I see so many blogs where the men are apologizing months and months after D-Day.  They take their wife’s anger and understand they caused it.  They deal with their breakdowns and anxiety.  Zack has never wanted to face any of that.  He wants to pretend it never happened and that if we just focus on the future then none of that will happen.

It’s not my fault I get triggered by things.  It’s not my fault him being in his home state by himself causes me anxiety.  It’s about time he realizes that instead of expecting me to make the concessions.  I’m not the one that cheated!  I didn’t betray him and make plans to live my life with someone else.  I wasn’t telling some other man I loved him.  If he had ever done a smidgen of research on affair recovery he would have known triggers will always be present.  He would have known it generally takes between 18 and 24 months to fully recover.  Instead he wanted it over and done with pretty much after he confessed.

Anyway, I don’t know if it’s the Prozac kicking in after a mere 3 or 4 days or what but I’ve been keeping the anxiety at bay.  I’ve got diarrhea like a crazy woman so maybe it’s manifesting itself that way.  Pleasant.  Can’t take the Visteral until after 8 because I have to pick up Rock Star…

I’ve been keeping track of the money I’m spending because for the life of me I can’t figure out why the hell we don’t have a ton of money left over each pay period!  Well, I know for the month of June it was because we were on vacation and eating out all the time.  And last pay period it was because we were in Florida and again, eating out and going shopping.  But even this pay period I wouldn’t have stayed within limits if not for the fact that we didn’t need to pay for trash, Am Ex, or the bank credit card.  Of course, I also went back to school shopping today because it is the tax free weekend and ended up spending almost $500.  Plus I had Rock Star’s cheerleading fees to pay plus a sweatshirt to buy.  The check to Mom for the water park came through and that was $90…  Picasso got assigned to be in band instead of getting art and home ec as his electives so he may not be signing up for cello lessons after all.  Who knows, maybe he’ll really enjoy band.  I’ve got fees to pay on the 14th but even for the 2 of them I don’t think it will even cost $100.  I do still need to buy food for the rest of the pay period…

Present Day Sam Says: A change in funeral plans? Come on, Sam! How dumb are you?

Okay, I will admit I was suspicious, but he was so convincing. He insisted that he was told the time was going to be Friday and he must have misunderstood.

Did anybody catch the Prozac reference? The man lies and says I was mentally abusive and manipulative and I ended up on fucking Prozac before this was all over and done with! I stopped taking it almost immediately when he tried to insinuate that “my depression was deepening”.

I wasn’t depressed, you asshole! You were driving me fucking crazy!

 

Approximately Four Days Before D-Day

August 2015

Well, he’s in his home state.  He told me yesterday he was going to his cousin’s funeral.  He left around 11 and got there around 6:30.  He texted me to let me know he had made it but I haven’t heard from him since.  Typical.  My anxiety when he goes to his home state by himself is always already amped up and he does nothing to alleviate it.  Checking in would be nice.  Letting me know what’s going on would be nice.

I haven’t been freaking out too much.  The pit in my stomach isn’t the boiling mass it was a few days ago.  Last night was nice with him.  And he was friendly and flirty with me today.  I asked him if he loved me and he said he did.  I guess he could lie if he wanted to but I’m hoping that he is telling me the truth.

I know that eventually, somehow, I’m going to have to bring up the other FB page and his feeling that I’m going to leave him.  Maybe he no longer cares.  Maybe that’s something he worried about in February but is completely over now.  I was reading some old texts that I had screen shot and he was so head over heels in love with me just a year ago.  Telling me how much he loved me and how I was his entire life.  I liked that.

Now I can’t get him to come out of the bedroom and he spends all of his time on his phone, answering emails and talking to Blockhead.  I wish someone that he confided in actually knew the entire story and could tell him he was acting crazy.  Instead they feed the delusions and then I come across looking crazy!

I did ask him if he was ever going to go anyplace with me.  He told me he had driven someplace once and I replied that he was planning on going to this funeral by himself and then visiting Blockhead and then going to his reunion.  All by himself.

I read something today that makes a lot of sense.  I know I’ve seen something similar before but for some reason it really hit home.  The woman was talking about how her husband could just forget all about his affair and she wished that she could do the same.  Someone replied to her that once the affair is discovered it is usually a relief to the cheater; they no longer have to keep their secret life hidden.  Everything is out in the open and they no longer need to lie to you or worry about being found out.  It’s over.  But for the betrayed it’s just the beginning.  Now they know and they have to deal with the fallout.

I think that’s what Zack doesn’t get.  Once he was found out he made a choice and could move on.  He could forget about her and move on.  I, on the other hand, had just discovered my husband’s betrayal.  I was rocked with doubt and insecurity and fear and everything else. I couldn’t just forget it and move on.

I deleted all her pictures off my phone today. It felt good. I also deleted all of her corny little inspirational sayings.

I have to be able to move at my own pace.  I’m sorry if Zack doesn’t like that.  I’m sorry if it makes him feel bad or like I’m going to leave.  I have indulged him plenty.  I never discuss her or their affair with him so let me just have my own thoughts that I work through.  It’s so stupid when you think about it.  Blockhead rushes in to tell Zack all about my FB page and everything that I was upset over back then I’ve worked through.  I could have worked through it on my own with my husband being none the wiser, but noooo!  Oh God no!  Blockhead knew better.

He rewarded himself with a bottle of bourbon for going to his psychiatrist appointment on Monday.  Then on Tuesday he decided he was done with therapy with his therapist.  He said he has no faith in it and he’s too much of a black and white thinker.  He’s going to rely on the drugs to help him.  They better help fast!  I’m at the point where I’m about to take his anti anxiety medication.

Present Day Sam Says: Sad, sad, sad. I’m dancing as fast as I can to placate him, to tell myself that everything was going to be okay and it was so far off track at that point there would be no recovering.

We’ll have to discuss the FB page at some point and I’ll end up apologizing for “hurting” him. He just needs to understand what I’m feeling and how much this affair hurt me. I’ll forgive EVERYONE for the shitty way they treated me if that means my marriage prevails. And meanwhile he’s down there fucking his cousin and not giving me a second thought.

It was a nice touch when he chose to “reward” himself with a bottle of bourbon. Was he setting the stage for his PTSD/alcoholism excuse once he left me and the kids in the dust?

In the end here we are. On the verge of divorce, him living with the whore that set this whole thing in motion more than four years ago. No good deed goes unpunished and the path to Hell is paved with good intentions, right?

 

Approximately Five Days Before D-Day

August 2015

Feeling better today.  And I’ve made some progress.  Yesterday I finally removed all of her pictures in my contacts.  I had her picture up for his nephew, Pastor Fake and Jezebel still.  Since I was beginning to talk to Tammy Faye more I had already replaced that one.  I kept her number in but deleted her picture and have her in my contacts as Kim.  I started to delete most of my entries on Facebook and then just decided to deactivate that account.  I’m even considering reaching out to Jezebel with a friend request.  CONSIDERING.  It’s not a done deal.

I am finally starting to realize what Shawn the Wife means when she talks about not pain shopping and focusing on your own happiness.  Tracking her down and seeing what she was up to, trying to interpret events (her hair is longer and darker, she’s lost weight- does this mean she’s involved with my husband again? Is she getting a divorce? etc.), seeing how she was interacting with my in-laws, did nothing for me except make me crazy.  Honestly, I know that I have given her more head space than she will ever give me.  I know my in-laws will never turn their back on her and I need to let that go.  Somehow try to find a way to focus on us and our relationship.  I doubt it will ever be the same.  I was re-reading some old entries when I was deleting stuff and I came across the one that finally nailed down what it was that made everything so hard.  I loved them.  I considered them family.  But when it came down to it I wasn’t the one they rallied around.  I was disposable.  I loved them all just like they were my original family and then I found out I didn’t mean anything to them if I didn’t mean anything to Zack. I felt like they were my family; they felt like I was Zack’s wife and everything about our relationship was based on that. So, I think I can navigate some sort of relationship with them while understanding that it doesn’t really mean anything.  It makes things more peaceful at home.

Hell, I’ll even forgive Blockhead and his snooping ways.

As for Jezebel, well, I don’t trust her and any relationship we will end up having will be extremely superficial.  I can be cordial.  I can do holidays.  But I won’t be willing to do things with her on our own.  I won’t confide in her or let her in on my family life.  I can be FB friends but honestly I’ll probably unfollow her because I don’t want to see her bi-weekly profile and cover picture changes or hear about her fabulous life with her very best friend and soul mate.  If the kids choose to be friendly that’s great but I won’t be facilitating it.  I’ll just caution them that these are people they’ll see maybe once a year and if Jezebel and Husband #3 ever divorce they’ll be out of their lives forever.  Enjoy it but don’t get too close.  Oh, and the biggie, remember to NEVER EVER trust her.

This way is just so much more peaceful.  It’s hard sometimes to sustain rage and I’m over it.

Thinking about everything that has been happening lately I realized just how much I love Zack, how entwined our lives are.  I’ve spent almost half of my life with him.  It’s not just about the two of us.  It’s about us and everything that we have built over the last 21 years.  I don’t want to lose that.

I am hopeful that this is the year our anniversary offers up no triggers.  I’ve even been thinking about renewing our vows.

Present Day Sam Says:  Oh, Sam, you stupid, stupid, stupid woman.  You so badly wanted everything to be ok even though your gut was undoubtedly screaming the truth to you.  You were too trusting.

Now that I’m done scolding myself I want to say I always find these later entries so painful.  I was finally over it and just as I recover he goes and does it again, assuming, of course, that it ever truly ended.  I ate so much shit so that everything could go back to the way that it was and it turns out it was all in vain.

 

Oh Sam, You Poor Deluded Idiot

July 2015

Things are a little better, I suppose.  I go up and sit with him while he’s home for lunch.  He’s going to his reunion with Blockhead.  Without me.  And he’s talking about going to visit him in a few weeks.  Again, without me.

He thinks he’s impotent.  I don’t know if I should feel grateful because then he’s not fooling around, or if that’s just an excuse and he needs an explanation for being repulsed by me. It was the excuse he needed to remain “faithful” to his whore.

We’ve messed around some and joked around some and that makes me feel better, but my gut just keeps screaming. Listen to that gut, Sam!

I did notice he left his phone on the arm of the chair when he went to go take his medicine so maybe he’s not as guarded about his phone as I believe.

I’m debating calling his mom and seeing if she knows anything.  Probably wouldn’t tell me if she did. Hell no she wouldn’t! She was pushing for this. She called Harley and urged her to call her precious son because he was so sad.

I’m just so sad.  I feel overwhelmed.  I was feeling good about coming back to BFE.  I was feeling good about me and Zack and our relationship.  I was pretty much done with anything having to do with infidelity.  I was done with her.  And now this.

I wonder if it would do any good to start at the very beginning and tell him I know that Blockhead told him about my Facebook page.  Tell him I read the emails between him and Jezebel.  Flat out ask him what the hell is going on now.  I’m exhausted anymore.  I’ve been back for 6 days and I’m exhausted.  And I’m nauseous most of the time and constantly looking for clues that things are going to be ok.

He skipped another therapy session.  Hadn’t wanted to go anyway and then said he would but at lunch said last time inventory took until 6 so maybe it would be best to cancel. But remember, I was dismissive of his worsening symptoms. That’s probably why he canceled.

And can I just say I’m getting a little irritated?  He can’t go to Florida with me.  He can’t even come and sit out on the damn enclosed porch.  He’s spent 3 months saying we need to get another door for our screened in porch and it hasn’t happened.  But he can drive 6 hours to see his mom.  Alone.  And he can drive probably 8 hours to go see Blockhead.  Alone.  And he can drive 6 hours to go to his reunion.  Again, alone.  He can’t do jack shit with me or with the kids, but he can get in a car and drive off alone and do whatever…. or whomever. He was fucking Harley. He drove to fuck his cousin. Period. And you were busy spackling like a good little wife.

Present Day Sam Says: I re-read these entries and it makes me so sad. And so mad. He played me for such a fool. I was an absolute idiot. I spackled and buried my head in the sand. I didn’t want to believe it. I simply could not wrap my head around the fact that my husband of 20 years could move across the country, buy a new house, a new car, new furniture and put a pool that cost the equivalent of many people’s yearly salary in our backyard and then turn around and fuck a whore. Seriously- who does that?

As I said way back at the beginning of this blog, why the hell couldn’t he have given me the two years I needed to get past what he had done the first time?

Sam, you know the reason.

Yes, because that’s not who he is. It’s all about him. It’s all about being easy and convenient. He wasn’t willing to do the hard work. He wasn’t going to be inconvenienced. He was entitled. He didn’t like feeling bad. He didn’t like discussing his faults and his shortcomings. Let’s focus on the future. Forget about my affair. Focus on other things. Like what you can do to prevent me from cheating.

We never really stood a chance. I knew from experience that once he was done with something, once he had made up his mind, there was no changing it. You couldn’t sweeten the pot and make him change course. That’s why I was so surprised when he “chose” me the first time around. I honestly believed he would never end things with her and stay with me. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe it was all a ruse. He would tell me what he needed to tell me and get his ducks all lined up. Then he could hone in for the kill.

I think we were doomed from the very minute he decided sexting with other women was a viable option. Because of who he is there would be no recovering from that. His mind was made up. I was old news. I was on my way out, no matter what. I think at some level I knew that. That’s why I always prefaced my comments with, “if”. It’s why I never fully rekindled relationships with the in-laws.

Why Would You Need To Sleep With Your Phone?

July 2015

He slept with his phone yesterday.  Said it was because the dogs kept knocking it down and he didn’t want to miss his mom’s call.  Then this morning I noticed the cord running to the chair where he always sits.  I thought it was in the chair with him but he’s actually putting it in his pocket.  He’s remote although he says the drive took a lot out of him and his boss was asking him a million questions yesterday.  I know he’s been talking to Blockhead because he told me this morning that they may go to their reunion.  I am either going to put my phone in his car on record or I’m buying a voice activated recorder to see if he’s talking to anyone on his way to work.  I know that won’t rule out everyone cheering him on to leave me but it might possibly eliminate my suspicions that he’s having another affair.  I wish I didn’t think like this but my gut is screaming at me that something is wrong.  He’s acting like he did back then.  And hell, his drive is only 10 minutes so maybe he wouldn’t even bother with calling and talking on such a short drive.

You wanna know the crazy part?  There are times I blame myself.  If I hadn’t used a public FB page as my own personal blog he wouldn’t be like this.  His other sister said he was so excited about this move, that it was a fresh start. I’m guessing that Blockhead stumbled across the page in December.  And everything has been downhill since. So I take that on as my own cross to bear.  I should have made everything private or friends only.  I could still have used it as my own personal blog but no one would have seen.  I could have made her pictures public and anything about her public and everything else private.  Despite the fact that he cheated and lied I’m the one feeling guilty and like if I had just done things differently then everything would be ok.  Sometimes I feel like it even extends to his family as well.  Not having a relationship with Jezebel causes him stress.  If I would just forget about all the things she’s done and how she helped to stab me in the back then everything would be ok.  And I know that’s faulty thinking.  He’s got to bear some responsibility in this.

At this point my mindset is this: He is not going to uproot his entire family and move us across the country so that he can leave me.  We will work through this because divorce is not an option.  Things are finally looking up in Whoreville and I really don’t need this shit. Maybe once my mom and everyone leaves on Thursday we’ll have a conversation about why he’s been acting so weird.

Present Day Sam Says: Yes, honey, he was willing to uproot his entire family and move them across the country so that he could leave you. He was willing to put a brand new inground pool in your backyard to throw you off his scent. He was willing to lie and cheat. He’s an evil, rotten bastard and you would do well to remember that.