Winning Vs. Losing, Or What I Learned From Michelle Kwan

The fabulous Dolly over on The Queen Is In wrote a provocative post last week. She mentioned someone on Twitter who questioned whether or not she stayed because she couldn’t stand to see the OW win. Dolly admitted she, too, wondered if part of why she stayed was because she didn’t want to see the OW win. Several other people commented that they didn’t want to see the OW in their situations win either. I couldn’t really chime in because as you must know if you read my blog, in my situation the OW did win. She got my husband. They are married now. I was effectively cast out and replaced.

Plus, as I kept thinking up a response it kept getting longer and longer so I decided to do what I do best and turn it into a post.

I can understand not wanting to lose your spouse to another person. I felt that way the first time I discovered what was going on. White hot rage that he had been playing me for a fool all summer long while he sweet talked that bitch. She knew I existed. She knew my kids existed. She didn’t give a shit. She wanted what was mine.

I wanted her gone! I wanted to win. I wanted her broken and destroyed. I wanted her to know that he loved me and he would never leave no matter what plans they may have had; I wanted to show her that all I had to do was snap my fingers and tell him I wanted us to work out and she would be gone without a second thought. I wanted her to know I was better than her and that she wouldn’t win.

I demanded he end things with her. I wanted to see it in black and white. His story was that he called her instead and ended things. He said she cried when he told her he could never leave me. I loved that. I felt great satisfaction in hearing she cried, that she felt discarded. She had been messing around with my husband for more than three months at that point and I wanted to banish her from our lives forever. I wanted her to know how insignificant she was to him.

I told him I had contacted her husband and when he told me to leave them alone and let them concentrate on repairing their marriage while we did the same I hissed at him, “Do not beg for mercy for your whore!” He backed off. I felt powerful. In control. Victorious.

So I definitely get it. I did not want her to win. And yet, I remember when our anniversary rolled around and the reality of everything hit me. I was “celebrating” my anniversary with a man who cheated on me.

About two months later I followed it up with this jewel:

One day I was talking to a dear friend who is wise beyond measure. I referred to the whore as a homewrecker. She pointed out to me that she wasn’t a homewrecker; my family was intact and I had won. I had to think about that. I don’t always feel like I’ve won. It sucks knowing your husband was declaring his love for someone else, someone he considered his soul mate. How do you feel like you’ve won when the prize is a lying, cheating sonofabitch? I’m being melodramatic here. I don’t feel that way now. I’m actually pretty pleased with my life right now. But still it’s that phrasing. Kinda like our marriage is better than ever. You know how I hate that one! I don’t think there are any winners or losers in the aftermath of an affair. Sure, he’s with me. He picked me. He’s a lot nicer. A lot more attentive. But he still lied and cheated. And that’s not a great prize to win.

Much like Katniss who won The Hunger Games only to find herself having to fight for her life once again in an ultimate showdown, I found myself in round two of fighting for my marriage a short two years later; sadly, I didn’t realize there was a round two until it was too late.

So this time I lost and she won. But did she really? What did she win?

She won a man who cheats. She won a man who, when times get tough, seeks out others instead of turning to his partner. She won a man who abandoned his children. Maybe she sees that as the ultimate sacrifice and a sign of how incredibly special she is. Most people see it as an act of cowardice. She won a man who can never be happy. She won a man who, according to his court testimony, can’t drive, can’t be around loud noises, and can’t be in public places with big crowds. She won an alcoholic. She won a man who is always the smartest guy in the room and who demands all the attention and adulation. She won a man she can never rely on when things are tough because for him every small problem is a giant problem; she’ll have to be the strong one all the time because he can’t handle it. She won a man who can’t take criticism and who will demand she is happy and appreciative all the time.

My mother likes to remind me that people can be different with different people. She has tales of her own with my father. As a child growing up I remember him spending a lot of time helping my grandpa out on the farm. Once he remarried though he didn’t spend nearly as much time out on the farm. As my mother said once, “It’s amazing that as his father ages he doesn’t need his son’s help nearly as much as he did when he was younger.”

I, on the other hand, don’t believe in personality transplants. I think my stepmom has something on my dad and that’s why their marriage has lasted 30+ years. And following that logic if she had something on him she could effectively control him.

Even if my ex-husband is a completely different person with Harley what is important is how he was with me.

When I “lost” to Harley, I lost a man who rarely used my name when speaking to me. I lost a man who didn’t want to hold my hand in public (although he thought it was hilarious to grope me). I lost a man who told me on many occasions, “Only one of us can be crazy or unhappy at a time, and that person is always me.” I lost a man who took it as a personal insult if I was unhappy or sad or dared to complain about anything. I lost a man who shut himself off in the basement or bedroom, and then dared to justify his behavior with Harley because I “treated him like a wallet and a handyman.” I lost a man who didn’t really want to go on family vacations or outings with us. A man who didn’t bother to go to parent-teacher conferences with me most of the time (I think he attended two). A man who didn’t really seem to care about being a husband or a father when it came time for the day to day activities. I lost a man who didn’t want to socialize with me and friends together. I lost a man who had no interest in hearing my stories from my life before him, and who didn’t really seem to show much interest in my life outside of him when we were married.

More importantly, “losing” him to Harley led me to finding the mobster. It’s no secret that I would have probably stayed until the bitter end. Her swooping in with her “big win” allowed me to find a love I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Yes, I may have “lost” to the OW but do you want to know what I’ve won?

I’m with a man who thinks I’m funny. He genuinely laughs at my jokes.

He thinks I’m adorable. Seriously. I’ll do something and he’ll say, “You are so cute the way you…”.

He butters my roll for me without me even asking. He makes me breakfast. He wants to please me. He sends me flowers and chocolate covered strawberries.

He greets me every morning with, “Hi, Beautiful,”  “Hi, Cutie,” or, “Hi, Babydoll”.

He appreciates the things I do for him instead of merely tolerating them. He has thanked me over and over again for his “Box ‘O Love” and the surprise party I threw for him. He thanks me every time I drive the entire way to see him.

He thinks I’m smart and beautiful.

He listens to me. He listens to all my crazy stories, both present and in the past. I can tell him anything. And I do. He tells me to never apologize for complaining; he wants to hear everything. We’re partners and he wants to hear the good and the bad. He likes to hear about my day. I work in a bank, for crying out loud, and he treats it like I’m doing amazing and interesting work every day. Hell, I believe he even listened to me explaining Candy Crush to him in detail.

He doesn’t tell me only one of us can be crazy at once and it’s always him. In fact, he calms me down when I’m freaking out and he’s willing to take over if I need him to.

He tells me that I give wonderful advice and I’ve been so good for him and I always think things through and know just what to say.

He ran out to Wal-Mart when we were together for my daughter’s Family Weekend and bought me shampoo and conditioner because I hadn’t brought any and the hotel didn’t have any in the room. My mom told me later she was amazed that he was willing to do that and asked me if I could ever imagine CF doing that for me. Considering he grudgingly made me a lemonade when I was pregnant with his child after three miscarriages I’m going to say, “Probably not.”

He accompanied me to a wedding all the way out in Utah AND met a ton of my friends while out there. Some people would have found that to be much like a lamb being led to slaughter, but he was amazing. He was a bit nervous but he was genuinely pleased to finally be able to meet my friends.

He likes to socialize and have fun. He’s always up for adventure. My daughter has labeled him “the happiest person [she] knows.”

He lifts me up. He wants to be a full-time partner to me.

He’s more supportive and attentive to my kids than their own dad was.

And he’s funny. He makes me laugh and we have the best time when we’re together.

He picks flowers for me from the side of the road. He creates chalk signs for me when I come to visit and he buys balloons and decorates for me. He’s willing to drive 10.5 hours to see me. He sends me song lyrics and creates picture books of our adventures together. He gets me a cup of coffee when we’re together.

He’s also never cheated on me and never lied to me. He has been patient and understanding, especially in the beginning when I was a skittish mess. He is the most amazing man and I never would have met him if I hadn’t lost my husband to Harley.

Years ago I remember an interview the lovely, talented and graceful Michelle Kwan did. It was right after the Olympics, where she had been expected to take the gold, only to have someone snatch it out from under her. The interviewer asked her how she dealt with losing the gold medal. I still remember her response all these years later. I didn’t lose the gold. I won the silver.

Wow- talk about reframing a situation. Michelle didn’t lose anything. She won something that very people even have the opportunity to compete for. What does that have to do with infidelity and Harley and losing CF to her, you may be asking?

It’s simple. I don’t look at it as losing my husband to Harley. I look at it as “winning” the mobster and finally being in a relationship where I am valued, cherished and loved.

AliMONY BITCHES

He has a way with words, doesn’t he? The above title was what he wrote in his comments section upon finally paying me half of his court ordered spousal support this month.

I so badly wanted to comment back: Does Harley know you no longer think her pussy is worth $2800/month?

Follow up question: How does she feel about you no longer thinking she’s worth the money you pay out every month?

Finally: Do you realize you could buy a high priced call girl for less than what you’re paying for Harley?

The real question is did he ever think it was worth $2800/month or did he simply think he was going to ride off in the sunset with the whore cousin and pay whatever he decided was fair?

I think we have a winner there. Poor Harley. He must be such a joy to live with. I wonder (only momentarily) how she feels about his ongoing obsession with me?

Douche, I mean dude, you’re newly married! You should be much more focused on your brand new, only slightly dented wife. Stop focusing on the ex and start focusing on all the wonderful things you’ve gained- like a cheating whore and children who already have a dad.

Then again, so long as he’s bringing in a paycheck she probably doesn’t care.

Dealing with him three years later is interesting. I couldn’t really say in the beginning, “I never thought he could do this to me!” because obviously he could. He had done it two years prior. I was surprised though at the depths to which he sank- the ease with which he told his lies, the vicious deceptions, the financial abuse, the cowardly behavior, the abandonment of his children. Then I found Anne and soon realized there was a whole other layer I had yet to explore. Now, I’m amused at how childish and petty he is.

I mean, for God’s sake, the man moved us across the country to get closer to the semen demon. He lied right to my face. He did awful things. He blew through more than $30k in four months, wining and dining the whore and having the time of his life while I pinched pennies and had to repeatedly deny our kids things. He turned his back on his kids and then preceded to act like he was the victim. He used our home as an extended stay hotel during the week and took off to be with the whore on the weekends- every weekend- for six months after I found out what he was doing. February 2016 he walked out the door like it was any other day. Went to work and afterwards drove to Kentucky and moved in with Harley. Never said a word. I found out when my support payment wasn’t directly deposited into my account. After I contacted his boss, of course. He then ends up losing his new job and doesn’t send a dime my way for the next ten months. I worked two jobs while he worked none. Then when he finally gets another job he moves the cunt face cum dumpster and her kids into a new home while declining to pay his modified support, instead choosing to pay only a fraction of what he owed. In all that time he never once bothered to drive to see his kids. Oh no, because once again he was struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Yes, once reality began to settle in somewhat he put on the performance of a lifetime in order to try to get out of paying decent spousal and child support.

If anyone should be bitter and angry and prone to petty, angry outbursts it should be me! But no. I’m happy as a lark. Doing quite well, thank you. Taking his money is like a salve on my soul.

He is living back in his home state, a place where he was dying to get back to; he is married to the whore, the one who made him so “happy”. He has new pets and new kids- all of which undoubtedly appreciate him in a way his old pets and kids did not. He left behind the job in Virginia, the one he complained about endlessly, and now has another six figure job. Because his kids were 15 and 13 when he pulled his disappearing act he will only pay child support for six years total and he has already received a cut in that support because Rock Star has graduated. He’s living in a brand new 2800 square foot home with the whore and her kids. They go out to celebrate birthdays as a family. They take family vacations. They fly off to Vegas for tacky weddings. By all accounts he should be happier than a pig in shit. But he’s not.

Instead he’s lashing out at me. Horrible, horrible me who has done nothing to him. The man who has everything he has ever wanted is unhappy and whining because… consequences. Oh the injustice! Hey Cousinfucker, you want some cheese with that whine?

The Devil You Know

I came across an article written by someone who purports to rebuild remarriages after affairs. For a tidy sum he can help you keep that delightful lying, cheating love of your life.

I have long said that I’m not here to give advice. If you’ve read much of my blog then you know that I had more than one DDay which means I forgave my lying cheater at least once. Technically speaking I suppose Harley was the gift that resurfaced three times. The first time was when he supposedly spontaneously confessed he had been “texting” other women.

True story? Her husband discovered what they were up to and messaged me on FB. Cousinfucker deleted the message and then blocked him. Why he owned up to texting her is beyond me.

Oh, and he never elaborated on exactly what it was he was texting and then refused to disclose a week or so later. I was so stupid and thought he was so honorable that he might have felt guilty simply because he was talking to other women and spilling secrets about our marriage.

So that was DDay #1. Happy Mother’s Day!

DDay #2 was August 14, 2013, three months later. I got yet another message from her husband.

Yeah, about that blocking thing… when he came back from Jezebel’s wedding Harley the Whore blocked me. I had her profile picture up all over the house when he got home and my lying cheater promptly told his twu luv all about it. Once I realized I was blocked I did some digging and found her husband on my list of blocked contacts, which was really strange because at that point I don’t think I had blocked anyone ever in my life!

DDay #3 was two years later, almost to the day. August 10th, 2015. A day which will live in infamy and is only surpassed by June 10th, 2016 as one of the crappiest days of my life.

I dredge all this up again to point out that I, too, forgave my husband at one point. I don’t condemn those who choose to make a go of it. I don’t look down on them. I’m here telling my story and sharing my thoughts so that hopefully others won’t suffer through the same shit I did.

With that said, what the hell, Mort? You’re selling snake oil!

Some of his wonderful advice? #1- Don’t ask about the affair or go to marriage counseling. #2- Tell them divorce is not an option. #3- Have sex with your partner if you want to. I’m not sure if #4 is from him or some other person promising success for 3 easy installment payments of $299, but I’ve also heard that if your partner is still in the affair then be extra sweet and understanding. Don’t make them feel any “toxic shame”.

O.M.G. This is a cheater’s wet dream! I get to fuck around and you can’t ask me about it!

Of course they don’t want to talk about it! They don’t like consequences. They’d rather engage in all that hysterical bonding. Now that’s where the fun is at!

Let’s concentrate on the sex and forget the talking. When you talk you make me feel something akin to guilt and I don’t like that. I’m so splendiferous that I wouldn’t actually feel guilt but when you use words and say things like, “You really hurt me,” and “I don’t trust you anymore,” or “What were you thinking fucking that low class whore?” then it almost makes me feel bad and it certainly doesn’t get me hot and bothered. Let’s stick to sex and forget all the talking stuff.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but let’s face it divorce is always an option when one person wants out. You can’t prevent it no matter how much you personally may be against it.

Honestly? It’s just another form of pick me dancing. No matter what you do I won’t divorce you. Keep fucking the whore. Tell me everything is my fault. Give me a list of things that I need to work on. 

I think my favorite thing about Mort, though, is his philosophy on forgiving the cheating spouse. https://marriagemax.com/cheater/  What if your spouse has done the work and is truly repentant? Don’t you owe it to him or her to forgive and forget and reap the benefits of all your hard work? Don’t you realize that your chances of dumping the cheater only to end up with someone else who just cheats on you is sky high so you may as well keep the cheater you know? I think Mort says it so much better.

Most victims of infidelity (and other emotional hardships) believe that they’ll be safer in a relationship with someone who never cheated on them or hurt them. I completely understand this FEELING. However, the OPPOSITE might be true.

In the case of the woman above, it appears that her husband really changed. And I’ve seen many people transform themselves after getting the “I want a divorce” wake up call. Unless her husband is a pathological liar or a sociopath, he’s LESS LIKELY to make the same mistake again compared to someone whose track record is clean. In other words, once a spouse learns their lesson, they’re LESS vulnerable to make the same mistake than someone who’s never erred in that way before.

According to a 1998 survey by researchers at the University of Chicago, about 25 percent of married men and 17 percent of married women in the United States ADMIT to having been unfaithful. The noted author Shirley Glass’ research suggests it is probably closer to 25 percent of women and 40 to 50 percent of men! That means that starting from scratch gives the above woman a 50% chance of finding another husband who will be faithful.

Now let me ask you: at this point in this woman’s husband’s life, given all he’s been through and learned, what are the chances that he’ll screw up again? If this woman gave him another chance, what’s the likelihood that he’d make the same mistake that almost caused him to lose his family years before? In my opinion, it’s dramatically less than 50%. In fact, I think it’s slim to none.

Let me clarify that I’m talking in this case about a man who truly transformed himself and succeeded to prove that he’s changed. I’m NOT talking about someone who continually makes empty promises.

If this woman were to leave her husband, I think Las Vegas would give her LOWER odds that this sort of thing would never happen to her again.

Here lies an unfortunate irony. People wait years and years for their spouse to wake up and change their ways. Then when they finally do it, they’re told it’s too late.

I understand why someone would feel, after being cheated on, for example, that “it’s too late.” But the fact of the matter is that they’re about to walk away from a person who is FINALLY prepared to be a wonderful loving spouse.

In my experience, it’s these people, people who have made serious mistakes, people who have had the harshest wake up calls, who become the BEST spouses and are capable, more than anyone else, of forging the MOST fulfilling relationships.

Do you see the irony here?

The mistakes that ruin relationships are those that transform the sinners into people capable of the most outstanding relationships. The unfortunate thing for the victim is that they don’t know how to heal from the hurt that would enable them to reap the benefit of their ordeal.

So the roles become reversed. The person who was ruining the relationship stands ready to transform it; while the person who wanted to work on the relationship all along becomes the cog in the wheel that inhibits true love.

In other words, the woman above has a choice. If she lets her husband go, he’ll most likely fall in love with another woman and treat her like a queen. He’ll be the husband to his new wife that the woman above always wanted him to be to her. I’ve seen it happen too often. Some lucky woman owes a poor victim a lot of gratitude. But this woman has another option. She could forgive her husband and become that lucky woman!

Here’s Sam’s philosophy: Yes, if you don’t fix your picker and figure out why you settled for so little in your relationship there is a good chance you could wind up with the exact same kind of person- a person who is willing to lie and cheat and take you for granted. But if you do fix your picker you have a really good chance of finding someone who won’t cheat on you, someone who will value you. Or put another way, you already know your current partner is a cheater. Those odds are 100%. It’s done. This mythological new person? Hasn’t done a damn thing to you!

But I’ll bite. Let’s take Mort’s theory bit by bit.

Most victims of infidelity (and other emotional hardships) believe that they’ll be safer in a relationship with someone who never cheated on them or hurt them. I completely understand this FEELING. However, the OPPOSITE might be true.

Yes, it might be true. Then it again it might not be. As I said above; however, you know with 100% certainty that your current partner has the ability to cheat on you because they have already, wait for it.. cheated on you!

In the case of the woman above, it appears that her husband really changed. And I’ve seen many people transform themselves after getting the “I want a divorce” wake up call. Unless her husband is a pathological liar or a sociopath, he’s LESS LIKELY to make the same mistake again compared to someone whose track record is clean. In other words, once a spouse learns their lesson, they’re LESS vulnerable to make the same mistake than someone who’s never erred in that way before.

Well, Mort, the devil is in the details, isn’t it? The problem here is that a lot of very remorseless cheaters say they’ve changed.

What they really mean is they don’t want to go through the hassle of a divorce. You are useful to them. They’ll do a better job of keeping the affair hidden.

My own husband swore up and down that he had learned his lesson. Harley was the biggest mistake of his life. He should have bought a motorcycle instead of engaging with her. He talked to her the way he wanted to talk to me. He would never make that mistake again. I was the reason he was alive and why he fought in a war.

Two years later I was going through the exact same hell and with the exact same whore. The man learned nothing. He wanted everything to be perfect and go back to normal and at the first hint that that wasn’t the case he reached out to Harley the Whore.

According to a 1998 survey by researchers at the University of Chicago, about 25 percent of married men and 17 percent of married women in the United States ADMIT to having been unfaithful. The noted author Shirley Glass’ research suggests it is probably closer to 25 percent of women and 40 to 50 percent of men! That means that starting from scratch gives the above woman a 50% chance of finding another husband who will be faithful.

Even if I agreed with your 40-50% statistic for men cheating, I still have a 50% chance that the new guy won’t cheat and I’m still left with the fact that I’m 100% sure that my current partner is a cheater.

Now let me ask you: at this point in this woman’s husband’s life, given all he’s been through and learned, what are the chances that he’ll screw up again? If this woman gave him another chance, what’s the likelihood that he’d make the same mistake that almost caused him to lose his family years before? In my opinion, it’s dramatically less than 50%. In fact, I think it’s slim to none.

I think you are way too optimistic. You are also assuming that every person who does not wish to divorce is invested in the marriage. That is simply not the case. Many times they are simply invested in not suffering consequences. Divorce has many consequences- losing custody time of your kids, splitting retirement funds, moving out of houses, no longer having someone to do your laundry/cook your food/clean your house/take care of your kids, no longer having access to your partner’s paycheck, losing friends and relatives…

Let me clarify that I’m talking in this case about a man who truly transformed himself and succeeded to prove that he’s changed. I’m NOT talking about someone who continually makes empty promises.

That’s the kicker, isn’t it, Mort? How do we really know which one we ended up with? Is the person truly remorseful? Have they truly transformed themselves? Or are they avoiding consequences?

If this woman were to leave her husband, I think Las Vegas would give her LOWER odds that this sort of thing would never happen to her again.

I don’t appreciate your scare tactics. I also don’t believe you should continue a marriage based upon the fact that, “Well, the next person will probably cheat, too, so why bother to find someone who won’t cheat and who will value me?

Maybe this person will find someone who is 100x better than the person left behind. That is another possibility.

Here lies an unfortunate irony. People wait years and years for their spouse to wake up and change their ways. Then when they finally do it, they’re told it’s too late.

I understand why someone would feel, after being cheated on, for example, that “it’s too late.” But the fact of the matter is that they’re about to walk away from a person who is FINALLY prepared to be a wonderful loving spouse.

In my experience, it’s these people, people who have made serious mistakes, people who have had the harshest wake up calls, who become the BEST spouses and are capable, more than anyone else, of forging the MOST fulfilling relationships.

Do you see the irony here?

Ah, the ol’ personality transplant! This person is now going to be everything you’ve ever wanted them to be! Nicely co-mingled with a giant helping of shaming people into forgiving the person who has devastated them.

Here’s the problem with your thinking, Mort. If my spouse has been an ass for 15-20 years and I’ve been begging him to change his ways and to please, please, please, keep his penis in his pants and then I finally wise up and realize his behavior is never going to change so I tell him I’m leaving him, it is NOT my fault that the marriage does not survive when he is finally facing  uncomfortable consequences and promises to change to avoid said uncomfortable consequences. You are putting the responsibility of the relationship succeeding or failing onto the person who has been abused and gaslighted for years. No, the relationship didn’t fail because I finally wised up and accepted my husband was an ass who was never going to change. It failed because my husband was an ass who was never going to change.

The mistakes that ruin relationships are those that transform the sinners into people capable of the most outstanding relationships. The unfortunate thing for the victim is that they don’t know how to heal from the hurt that would enable them to reap the benefit of their ordeal.

So the roles become reversed. The person who was ruining the relationship stands ready to transform it; while the person who wanted to work on the relationship all along becomes the cog in the wheel that inhibits true love.

Again, nice job blaming the victim. This relationship could work if only you would forget what I did! Yes, I may have mistreated you and taken you for granted (not to mention lied to you and cheated on you) for 20 years, but the real reason our marriage ultimately failed was because you refused to forgive me the 21st year.

In other words, the woman above has a choice. If she lets her husband go, he’ll most likely fall in love with another woman and treat her like a queen. He’ll be the husband to his new wife that the woman above always wanted him to be to her. I’ve seen it happen too often. Some lucky woman owes a poor victim a lot of gratitude. But this woman has another option. She could forgive her husband and become that lucky woman!

It so rarely works that way. That’s the fear that keeps people stuck. He/she will be better for the next person!

No, chances are very good that he or she will not be better for the next person. Oh, it may look that way from what is posted on Facebook or Instagram. He or she may even be able to keep that mask on for a few years. It will eventually slip. The shiny will eventually wear off the new relationship and they’ll be looking for something new and exciting once again.

Mort likes to tout his high success rate of couples remaining together. That’s nice, but there’s a difference between staying together because a divorce or splitting up is too inconvenient and your partner is of use to you, versus actually recommitting to your relationship.

Too Late For Apologies

It’s happened a second time. A former OW posts an apology to the betrayed wife, writing about how sorry she is for the pain she caused.

The first time I read one of these it wasn’t so much an apology as it was a list of things that she would like to say to the former wife. “I’m sorry,” was one of those things, followed by, “You’re welcome.”

Yes, honestly, you’re welcome. I’m sorry I fucked your husband. I’m sorry that when I finally figured out that he was married I continued to see him and fight for him and team up with him against you. But really, I did you a favor so… “You’re welcome.”

The reality was she ended up with an abusive, narcissistic asshole of the highest order. That fight she fought so valiantly? It didn’t yield the great riches she thought she was going to get. Soon into their relationship he began making outrageous demands and responding like a petulant teenager whenever she wouldn’t submit. Like a frog in that pot of warm water she sat there as he continued to turn up the heat, making more and more demands, taking over all facets of her life, and leaving her a shell of her former self.

The stories she wrote detailing the emotional and physical abuse, before revealing that she was at first an unwitting other woman, and then a full accomplice, were horrific. He really was an abusive piece of shit. I’m glad she got away.

Nonetheless, it takes a whole lot of hubris to tell the woman whose life you destroyed, “You’re welcome.”

The most recent one, also an unwitting other woman before joining forces with the married man, also experienced the love of a narcissist.

Like the previous apologizer she eventually realized the hell she willingly entered once she was involved with him. He wasn’t nearly as wonderful as she had thought he was back when he was lying to and cheating on his wife with her.

Therein lies my problem with these so-called apologies. They’re only sorry because the knight in shining armor turned out to be a doofus in a tinfoil hat. That hunk of gold turned out to be a sparkle covered turd. That’s the only reason they’re apologizing.

If Sir Doofus was still showering them with praise and gifts and lots of great sex instead of terrorizing them they wouldn’t think twice about the woman who was betrayed and discarded. They wouldn’t be a damn bit sorry about anything they did. My guess is we would hear a lot of, “You can’t help who you fall in love with,” or “It was fate,” or even, “I’m not a bad person! This doesn’t define me!”

Perhaps I’m being too hard on them. Maybe being lied to, cheated on, and abused has brought out their more empathetic side. Maybe their painful experience with the love of their life has taught them compassion. I don’t really know.

What I do know is it’s too late for apologies. You don’t apologize when you finally realize you didn’t actually win the prize. That’s not an apology; that’s remorse. For yourself. Apologies are more than words; they’re actions. When you don’t act until it’s your own ass in the fire you’re not sorry about what you did; you’re sorry it didn’t work out as splendidly as you were led to believe it would. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the Prince Charming I thought I was getting when I poached your husband,” is no apology at all. Acting like you did the betrayed wife a favor is adding insult to injury.

Should Have

September 2015

I know this is a fruitless endeavor but I wanted to psychoanalyze my lying, cheating douchebag of an ex.

Here’s what I think.  He always sees himself as a victim. He doesn’t want to do anything difficult.  He is a coward of epic proportions.  That completely explains his behavior with his kids.  He gets to run off every weekend and hang out with kids that think he’s so wonderful because he’s putting on this big act and throwing money at them.  His own kids are pissed off and hate his guts right now.  Talk to Picasso or Rock Star?  They might say something mean to me!  That’s why he leaves shit in the mailbox for Rock Star instead of putting it on the island where he might encounter me and Picasso.  That’s why he didn’t call her back.  That’s why he only communicates with her through texting.  Hell, that’s why he couldn’t grow a pair and tell his fucking mother to stop communicating with his fucking whore when he was supposedly reconciling with me!  Wah- if I talk to her about this then that means I have to face the fact that I did a bad thing.  That makes me feel bad.  I don’t like feeling bad.  Let’s just move on and pretend this never happened.  Dammit, why can’t you just act like nothing happened?  Be friends with my mom and sister!  That makes life so much easier for ME!  That’s why he could never stand up for me and constantly threw me under the bus.  It was so much easier than taking a stand.  Fucking chicken shit!

He looks down on everyone else which is why the only people that really get along with him and think he’s fabulous are those who work under him.  With them he feels superior so he doesn’t have to be a know it all dickhead. He’s never had a boss that he likes; he only likes them once they are no longer his boss.  He thinks he’s always the smartest guy in the room and resents anyone being able to tell him what to do or thinking that they are actually, gasp, his boss!  He is surrounding himself with sycophants who tell him exactly what he wants to hear.  Oh, don’t you worry, honey, you deserve to fuck your cousin.  Your happiness is the only thing that matters.  Your wife was so mean to you.  She didn’t appreciate you.  Leave her!  You deserve so much more.

His whore is a complete downgrade.  She’s a manipulative, deceitful, gold digging whore.  She obviously doesn’t give a shit that she’s tearing apart a family, or that his kids hate him now and he may end up with absolutely no relationship with either of them.  I don’t believe she’s ever actually owned a home and she’s living in a dump right now. She’s been arrested at least 3 times.  She lies. She told Zack her husband had put her into bankruptcy three times because of his spending.  Turns out they declared once, when their business closed, and it’s her and her daughter who spend money like water. I suppose that explains her arrest for writing bad checks.  Seriously?  How many fucking bad checks do you need to write before they send your ass to jail?  She sends naked pictures to her neighbor.  She has cheated on her husband numerous times.  Zack is not her first rodeo.  And probably won’t be her last once she realizes he is not the money tree he is projecting himself to be.   She’s giving him all the ego stroking he desires.  He felt like he could never make me happy and we all know that he just can’t cope when things aren’t going his way.  But here is this gold digging whore and she tells him all the time how wonderful he is and how she loves him.  No, sweetie, she loves your money.  And once that’s gone, she will be, too. In the end I think he is able to feel superior to her.  He’s a knight in shining armor for her.  He comes in and saves the day and the poor little piece of white trash is oh so thankful for her sugar daddy who buys whatever she and her kids wants.  He was never my superior.  Ever.  He may have thought he was a time or two, but in the end he knew he wasn’t.  I was there when he lost his job and witnessed his humiliation.  I was there every time he lost his shit over some minor random crap.  He couldn’t be the big strong man because I already knew who and what he was.  With her he gets a redo.  And if he ends up living in a city three hours from her and only seeing her on the weekends, well that will be perfect because he can probably keep his act up a lot longer.

And what is with this bullshit of instantly falling in love with every fucking female you fuck?  I can understand falling in love with me. I’m awesome.  🙂  He was also single.  I was single.  There were no children involved.  No marriages to destroy.  Nobody got hurt when we got together and threw caution to the wind and married 7 months after meeting.  But this?  I already know that 2 years ago he had decided to leave me, was in love with her, and plotting to move all of us 2000 miles across the country for the dumb bitch after less than 2 weeks of her simply *telling* him how much she wanted to suck his dick.  I guess her trumped up sob stories gave him a stiffie. Now this time he’s gone even further.

I seriously believe he’s lost his damn mind.  Seriously.  How do you go from loving your wife of 20 years to fucking your cousin?  How do you decide almost overnight to start sending her thousands of dollars, sell off the rest of your stock, open up a checking account in her town, and start this new life with her and her kids when you’re still fucking married with 2 kids?  How do you do this when you’re still messing around with your wife twice a day?  I sometimes feel like he just made a preemptive strike.  Well, she’s not happy; I can never make her happy.  I know she’s going to leave me so I’m going to fuck my whore of a cousin and leave her first.

But you know what?  I’m going to be ok.  I’m going to be better than ok.  I should have left the first damn time.  I should have thrown all his damn clothes out the door and told the kids and divorced his lying, cheating ass the first time I discovered his lies.  I should have left when I discovered he was throwing me under the bus to everyone who would listen.  I should have left when I realized that he and the truth had stopped existing on the same plane.  I should have left when he resumed drinking.  I should have left when he refused to continue therapy.  So many bread crumbs that were showing me what was up but I hung in there.  I’m not a quitter!  I’m not going to be a statistic; I don’t want my kids growing up in a broken home.  I will never divorce if it’s up to me!  That’s me.  Loyal until the end.  Persevering even when I should have kicked his ass to the curb.

He won’t be able to keep this up.  His natural setting is misery and unhappiness.  He can keep up the act for a while, 6 months, maybe a year.  But eventually his true personality will come out.  Something will happen that will throw him off balance and once again he’ll be a simpering, whimpering mess.  She’ll find out he’s not much for helping out around the house, or watching kids, or having to help shoulder the load.  As my brother said about his potential move: That works out perfect for him.  He gets to be by himself all week, watching tv and talking to no one and then on the weekends he goes to see her and play the part of happy involved family man.

I think once we go to court and he realizes what he’s going to be paying in spousal support and child support and marital debt division he’s going to have a real awakening.  She might get a taste of the real Zack that very day.  Holy shit!  How am I going to do this?  I have to pay my future ex-wife anywhere between a large amount and an even larger amount per month.  I owe her money for her share of the stock I liquidated without her knowledge and I owe her even more for all the money I either gave to or spent on my whore and her kids.  She’s taking half of my 401k, and at the balance it was before I took out my loan, plus she gets half of my pension.  She’s putting me in charge of paying for the kids’ cell phones and their allowances.  I’ve got my whore’s cell phone and her daughter’s cell phone at $231.  I have a monthly payment for the loan I took out.  I have rent because she won’t let me live there anymore.  I need cable and I have to pay for utilities.

The second lawyer I talked to believes he will be assigned more than half of the marital debt.  He may be looking at a second job.  Good luck!  You still need to buy food, gas, Kodiak and wine. Just getting down to his home state each weekend runs him about $70 at least so $280 conservatively for the month.  He goes through 3-4 cans of Kodiak.  I think it might even be more than that.  …he goes through probably 3 boxes of wine at a minimum; those are $20 a pop so $60 easily on wine.  Per week.  If I am able to get the remainder of the amount of money we still need to pay for the pool and my car loan included in the marital debt he’s fucked! ….

He also doesn’t like being embarrassed.  Watch him go ballistic when his card is declined.  Oh, if that threw him off wait until he realizes everyone he works with knows he’s fucking his cousin.  I’ve been invited several times by his boss to attend church with them.  It would be a shame if I somehow let it slip that we were divorcing because of his affair with his cousin.  Oh, I thought you knew that with all of that time he was taking off.  Yeah, he’s been leaving every weekend to go play house with his cousin and her kids.  He has essentially abandoned his own kids.  He lives here in the house still because he refuses to move out but he hasn’t spoken face to face with his daughter since August and he’s had one conversation with his son where he was basically trying to defend his affair with his cousin.  Not to mention I have a friend who is very close to one of his co-workers and his wife.  She’s responsible for getting them together.  I wouldn’t be surprised if one day it just slips out inadvertently.  Ooops, sorry, I figured you knew!  Our pool contractor works with Zack’s boss’s best friend.  Oops, sorry, I thought you knew.  It’s a small town.  Zack may be popular with the people on the floor but I’m pretty sure that most everyone in the office thinks he’s a pompous ass.  Once they realize he’s fucking his cousin… or rather, once he realizes they know he’s cheating on his wife after moving his entire family across the country and fucking his cousin he will be mortified.  He whined and cried and begged me not to tell the kids the last time?  Oh, that’s nothing compared to when everyone realizes the great Zack X is fucking his whore of a cousin.

He Makes Me Sick

I was all set to write about interrogatories and taxes on Monday. That day has come and gone. Interrogatories suck! It has been a test of patience to not just let loose with every nasty thought that plagues my mind.

Fast forward to today. I’m sending some more documentation to my lawyer’s assistant. I had found the message from The Saint where he stated that Cousinfucker was paying for their divorce. I decide I may as well send along the lovely pictures they’ve been plastering on Facebook. You know, pictures of the two of them posing together happily, despite his grueling battle with PTSD which rendered him unable to work. Pictures of him and her youngest child posing for Show and Tell, an activity in which he never indulged his actual children. What do I come across?

Oh yes! It’s the profile picture of the two of them which I had seen before. This time though I read the comments. Harley tells people to keep in mind that they had just been at her daughter’s cheer competition. People make comments about the t-shirt he’s wearing because it appears he is wearing a t-shirt in support of his favorite team’s arch rival. No, no, no! It’s her daughter’s school mascot. It was sooooo painful to put that shirt on but he wanted to support his “step-daughter”. The whore chimes in, “You know he must really love her to put that shirt on!”

You two are so adorable! Do I even need to point out that that cousin fucking piece of shit never once attended a single cheer competition for his own daughter?

Hey! Maybe that’s the reason his kids have nothing to do with him. He was a piss poor excuse of a father and now he’s strutting around like Daddy of the Year for four kids that have a father. An involved father at that. Nah, I’m sure it’s because I have poisoned their minds. As he’s whining to Rock Star that he hopes she will talk to him once again he forgets that actions speak louder than words. His words say his children are very important to him. His actions say, “You kids don’t mean shit to me. I couldn’t be bothered to go to your competitions or participate in your lives. Now excuse me while I show up at my ‘step-daughter’s’ competitions and take my fake son to show and tell. I love them and need to support them.”  Wouldn’t surprise me to find out he’s coaching one of their teams as well.

Even better are all the comments about how happy they look! Oh, and Jezebel loves them both! Someone told her she deserved to finally be happy.

Really? She’s just entitled to take whatever the hell she wants? Because it makes her happy? Fuck the two families they destroyed! Fuck the betrayed husband who has to watch as his whore of an ex and her mentally unstable lover/cousin play house with his kids! Fuck the betrayed wife who has lost her home, who moved her kids once again, who has lost everything, who works two jobs just trying to feed her kids. They are happy and that trumps everything! You don’t even want to know what would make me happy and I’m 100% sure none of her friends and relatives would tell me I was entitled to make myself happy at her expense.

Then again that seems to be the common refrain. As long as the two cheating lovebirds are happy then all is well. No one wants to look around and see the damage caused by the cheating and the lies. Being unhappy is a perfect justification for being a cheating asshole. Who can say it’s wrong when they’re so happy? Life is short! Too short to do the right thing apparently. I hope they all burn in hell.

Chump Lady is so correct when she says no contact is the only way to go. Having to dredge all this crap up in order to prove what an absolute asshole he is only makes my blood boil. I already know he’s an asshole! Why do I have to prove it to everybody else?

The Joys of Reconciliation

October 2014

His anxiety is worse than ever. He started taking meds for it almost a week ago now. Some days I wonder if he’s so anxious because he never stopped having the affair. Some days I wonder if he’s so anxious because he got in touch with her again, or he’s carrying on with someone else now. The only thing I have to compare it to is the day he was in the tub, before he half heartedly confessed. He was a wreck. But once he started it up again I was never able to tell. I guess here’s to hoping he just has mental health issues.

It also makes me nervous that he’s no longer texting me during the day. That’s stopped within the last week. He didn’t text me a lot when he was messing with Harley because he was too busy texting and sexting with her. So I’m left wondering if he’s texting her again, or if he’s found a new soul mate. Maybe Danielle. I know he deleted all their conversations off his phone. I’d like to believe he did it because I mentioned to him that she sure texts him a lot so he was trying to appease me. Past behavior would suggest he’s saving his ass.

I swear if he’s fucking around on me again I will leave him. I’ll take the kids and move away. I will take everything and what I don’t take I will destroy. True fucking story.

Present Day Sam Says: I think the title says it all.

Maybe he was already messing around with Harley. Maybe he had never stopped. Maybe he was anxiety ridden because Blockhead told him about my FB page. Regardless, this is what I got stuck with. He moves me thousands of miles away from my friends, disrupts my entire life and that of my children, and then I get to stress over what he’s doing and how he’s feeling.

I guess it goes to show that he could never be happy. This was his dream job and yet within weeks he was miserable once again. At least it proves to me that it was never about me. I couldn’t make him happy because nothing makes him happy. It wasn’t me; it was him. He’s a miserable person. And the joke’s on Whore-ley (thank you to whoever coined that termed!) because she’s going to find out sooner or later that she doesn’t make him as happy as she thinks she does. Plus, she’s a whore. She probably won’t care in the end.

Festivus Continues! (aka My Bitch List, Part 7)

What’s on the list today? How about Jean-Gate, Laundry-Gate, all the different little ways I took care of that big whiny man-child, the A-1 steak sauce faux pas, the time I *gasp* defied his wishes, and what my mother labeled, “the cruelest comment ever”. That’s actually the first thing on the list.

– I remember reading on an Internet forum about how couples discussed finances and when they needed to discuss purchases. At that point I rarely discussed anything of the sort with him, mainly because I never made large purchases. I was out frivolously spending his money on clothes for the kids, groceries, gifts for the family, household items and bills! Anyway, our dog needed expensive surgery. I called him at work to ask his opinion on what we should do. His response? “Why are you calling me at work about this? Isn’t this what I pay you for?”

– It was all about him! I was never “allowed” to be angry or upset, unhappy or discontent. He moved us 2000 miles across the country and then pouts because I’m not adjusting quickly enough.

– I hated our old house. Maybe hate is too strong of a word. It wasn’t my first choice. It was HIS choice. But he got very offended at the idea that I didn’t like the house. “I’m paying the fucking mortgage; I would think you would appreciate this house a little bit more!” Hey- I can appreciate the fact that I made the friends and the connections and got involved the way that I did because we bought that particular house. It still doesn’t mean it was the house I would have chosen. He has a fucking affair with his goddamn whore of a cousin and he’s crying because I haven’t forgiven him fast enough. Not to mention I haven’t completely forgotten about it.

– In a similar vein he bought me an under the counter can opener one year. Don’t mock him; I loved the one I had originally and I wanted another one. But this particular one was a dud. It didn’t open smoothly and it got to the point where you would stop and start a dozen times and the damn can still wouldn’t be opened! I never said a word though because I knew if I did it would devolve into a pity party and how he was the absolute worst husband in the world and obviously he couldn’t do anything right. I guess that would fall under the category of “Never Criticize Him. Ever.” Why? Because he can’t take it. I think he’d rather take a punch to the face than have anyone tell him he’s wrong.

– I remember one time a kid was having a meltdown. I don’t remember what it was about but I do remember I was fed up. I called him at work and got his voicemail. I proceeded to let the kid scream and cry on his voicemail. Boy, was he pissed! “Thanks for making me feel bad!” Hey, no problem! I’d like you to get the full experience of parenthood instead of the whitewashed version.

– I picked up his jeans to wash them while we were at his mom’s. He asked where they were and I told him they were in the washing machine. He made some snide comment about how he was going to wear them that day so I made an offhand remark about how he should be thanking me for doing his laundry instead of yelling at me. That did not go over well! He hissed at me that he thanked me for every little thing I did, blah blah blah. I don’t remember the rest of it but I do know his little rant brought me to tears. All for washing his fucking jeans!

– He would never tell me when he was getting low on socks or underwear or undershirts. Anything really. No, instead he would wait until he had been out of something for several days, up to a week before he would speak up. “I’ve been wearing the same pair of underwear for five days now.” Jesus Christ on crutches! Can you not tell me when you’re getting low on something or do you honestly expect me to inventory your fucking drawers to see what you have? As an aside I hate to do laundry so I would regularly buy him extra socks, underwear, undershirts, etc. It would definitely be possible to have a laundry basket overflowing with clothes and still have plenty of clothes to wear, so it’s not like a full hamper was a huge clue that he was running low. The sad part is I had convinced myself at one point that I *should* be checking his drawers so that he never ran out of anything. I was a bad, bad wife for not keeping on top of all of this!

– This is one a friend of mine remembers just because she thought it was such bullshit. I was never “allowed” to use his grill. That was his. He couldn’t believe it when we went to a cookout at her house and she was the one grilling! His little man mind was blown!

– This one isn’t so much a major gripe but again, this is my list of Festivus grievances so… whenever he would grill steaks he considered it a personal insult if anyone would use steak sauce on the steaks. Apparently, he was such a master griller that no one should ever need condiments when he was the chef. For the record, I LOVE A-1 sauce. Judge away!

– He didn’t like chicken so I rarely made any dishes with chicken. I certainly didn’t make a roasted chicken or fried chicken. But then it got tricky. Kinda like how he hated mayonnaise and it made him gag but he liked tartar sauce… some chicken was ok. Shredded chicken. Breaded chicken. Chicken in casseroles- but only sometimes.

– He didn’t like mushrooms so whenever I would make spaghetti sauce or beef stroganoff I would fix his plate first and then I would add the mushrooms to the rest of the dish and heat it up before serving the rest of us.

– We went over to a friend’s house one evening and we were supposed to bring something to share (read: I was supposed to make something to share). I don’t even remember what it was that he wanted me to bring but I do remember I chose to make two other things instead. Man-child actually pouted and was pissed that I made something other than what he had “asked” me to make. He didn’t like what I made instead and that made him very sad. He probably wanted me to make taco dip and I made spinach and artichoke dip and broccoli salad instead. Ha! You will never again taste my taco dip, you cousin fucking, soul sucking waste of skin! Or my biscuits and gravy.

I continue to be amazed by stupidity. I’ve heard it said that it’s okay to give your all to someone else but that in turn that person should be willing to give their all to you. I’m afraid that’s just never going to happen again. I’m too damn tired. I wasted my best years on a person who didn’t deserve it. I don’t have the energy to be nice to another man.

He Doesn’t Look Unhappy

Ugg! Cousinfucker’s profile picture popped up on my mom’s Facebook feed as “someone she might know”. Oh she knows that piece of shit all right!

Even better? His new profile picture is a picture of him and the whore together. Isn’t that sweet? I don’t even want that waste of skin but it still boggles the mind! Who does that? He’s not even divorced and he’s got a picture of the two of them up on Facebook, showing her off to the world. Hey! Look at me and my whore! Yeah, I’m married; I’ve abandoned my kids. No biggie! I’m happy and that’s what matters! It makes me sick to my stomach. I’m thankful Picasso doesn’t have Facebook and that Rock Star has him blocked. Otherwise they would both be subjected to that bullshit and Rock Star would be going off once again.

You know what else pisses me off? I set up his Facebook account for him. He had it for over a year before deactivating it. Never once did he have a picture of the two of us up. I was married to that shit eating chimp for twenty years and he never bothered to put a picture of ME up; he fucks this whore for a year and she’s part of his profile picture.

I realize it sounds petty but it’s those small things that chip away at your self-confidence. It’s having his family always commenting on the whore’s profile pictures, telling her how pretty she is, how beautiful she is (she isn’t), and then not saying anything to me or making an off-hand comment. She got: You’re sooooooo pretty. I got: That hairstyle is becoming on you. Wow. Thanks. It’s him never commenting on anything I said and never posting pictures of me, but then interacting with her and posing for pictures with her. When asked about that his excuse was, “But I see you at home every day.”

Regardless, Cousinfucker does not look unhappy. He doesn’t look like he’s crying every day, which is what he told our daughter at one point. He doesn’t look like he’s suffering from PTSD. He looks fine. He looks like he should be getting his ass to work and paying me what he owes me! Otherwise, the next profile picture he’s going to be putting up is his mugshot!

A New Medical Breakthrough- Personality Transplants!

Logically, I know such a thing does not exist.  It is so tempting though to try to convince myself that surely there was something I could have done differently.  Or, maybe he is correct when he says (most frequently to my kids!) that we didn’t have a happy marriage, we had grown apart (once we had kids, of course), and my favorite, we just aren’t good together.  I will admit that some days I think that maybe he’s a different person with her.  Afterall, it was like pulling teeth to get him to even do anything FUN with us most of the time.  He had too many “issues” to go out to dinner with his own kids on their birthdays, but he can go out to dinner with no problem with his fake family.  He can spend Christmas Eve trolling the mall, spending hundreds of dollars on kids that aren’t his, but he couldn’t be bothered to personally hand his own kids the gift cards he bought them (he left them on the counter with a note) or to text/call them on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.

I think back to how he told his sister that Harley made him happy.  I’ve spent two years stewing over that, asking myself why I couldn’t make him happy despite everything I did for him.  Some days I am almost able to convince myself that he is correct and that we were just bad for each other and he now has a chance to be happy.  Harley obviously has something that I don’t; she’s his ticket to happiness and I need to face facts that they are a better match.

Then I throw my head back, let out a loud guttural laugh, probably snort a few times, and say, “Wake the fuck up!  There is no such thing as a personality transplant.  He’s the same miserable person he’s always been and always will be.”  That’s the short pep talk.  The longer one goes into how he’s traded me in for a much cheaper model with a hell of a lot of more miles on her. That he found and bought her at the impound auction.  That she’s already fooled around with other men while telling him he’s her one and only Schmoopie Bear, and that she will continue to do so.  That her kids trash talk him behind his back.  It’s a very long talk but it makes me feel better.

Here’s the thing:  I don’t really believe a leopard will change its spots.  I think a person can bring out the worst in you (or the best, to be fair), but I also believe that you are who you are.  I may have lost a lot of who I was in my marriage while trying so hard to please him and keep everything together, but I was still me.  I am basically a happy, outgoing person.  I tend to see the glass as half full instead of half empty. And if that half full/half empty glass is filled with vodka all the better.  I try to make the best of any situation I am in; I get involved and try to make friends.  Sure, in new situations I tend to hang back and assess the scene.  I am often leading the charge, but I’m also perfectly happy hanging back and let others take over.  I try to see the best in people- except CF and Harley- they’re lost causes.  At the root of it I am a happy person.  I’ve heard it said once that there are people who could be happy with their lives even while living in Cleveland and there are those who wouldn’t be happy even if they lived in Hawaii (feel free to insert wonderful destination of your choice if Hawaii doesn’t do it for you).  I’m happy in Cleveland.  CF is miserable in Hawaii.

Who he was with me is who he’s going to be with her.  Oh sure, right now everything is great (except for her sleeping with her husband- allegedly).  Add to that the fact that he’s a part time soul mate.  I’m sure the drive is getting to be tiresome but hey, he doesn’t have to worry about helping her out with her kids’ homework, or getting them ready for bed, or shuffling them around.  He isn’t expected to help out with laundry or the dishes, and if he does it’s a novelty and not something he HAS to do on a regular basis.  I’m sure there is still an element of them against me even though I don’t speak to him.  And let’s face it, it’s so exciting when you only see a person for 2 or 3 days out of the week.  You can pour all of your energy into that person and it doesn’t get tiring at all because you get a FUCKING 5 DAY BREAK FROM HIS CRAZY!!!

If it ever does get to the point where he moves in with her and her brood he will be the same killer of joy, the same soul sucking vampire, the same neurotic mess, the same unimaginative couch potato with her that he was with me.  He will eventually revert back to ordering kids out of “his” chair, or “his” spot on the couch.  He will eventually revert back to shutting himself in the bedroom and watching tv nonstop.  He will eventually no longer find the chaos of four kids charming. He’s not a different person.  He hasn’t suddenly evolved into Mr. Personality because he’s finally found the love of a good woman.  Oh my God, I think I choked on that phrase!  Let me change it slightly.  He hasn’t suddenly evolved into Mr. Personality because he’s finally found the love of a gold digging whore.  Hmmmm…. can gold digging whores love anyone?

When he gets bad news he will end up lying catatonic on a bed, unable to move and forcing her to take charge and make it all better.  When some small snafu hits he will still end up in a tizzy that rivals one of a teenage girl. When he gets sick he will act like he is dying and expect her to drop everything and tend to his every need as proof she loves him.  He will never be a full partner or a good dad.  He will continue to turn mole hills into mountains and he will continue to see himself as the Great Victim.  He might possibly move away from his children and get a new job because he’s so unhappy at this one, but he’s going to end up hating his new job just as much.  Why?  Because when you get down to it he is not a happy person.  He loves being miserable.  He doesn’t know what to do if he is happy.  His semen demon does not have special powers to turn him into someone he’s not.

I think it’s very important for anyone who is dealing with infidelity to tell yourself this and to let it sink in.  Believe it!  It’s true.

But they look so happy on Facebook, you may be saying.  WHO CARES?  Facebook is generally a big fat lie.  I can assure you that no one reading my Facebook page would have had any idea of what was going on in my life.  Hell, I don’t think most people reading my Facebook page NOW have any idea what’s going on, unless I’ve already shared with them.  This sums it up in absolutely the best way:  When you compare your life to a person’s Facebook page you are comparing your behind-the-scenes to their highlight reel.

OF COURSE the cheater and the whore are going to be all gushy and gooey and lovey dovey on Facebook.  I have had it pointed out that in the cheater’s mind it *must* be true in order for them to justify all the destruction they’ve caused.  Who wants to publicly announce they’ve made a huge mistake in tossing aside their wife and kids (or husband and kids for those males who have been cheated on) for some side piece that was a definite downgrade? They are giving you the highlight reel! That’s why Harley might post something like this:  Look at all the fantastic gifts Schmoopie Bear gave me!  How did he know to buy me a vibrator to keep me “happy” during the week so I wouldn’t continue to screw around with other men???  I am so blessed, so happy!  I couldn’t ask for anything more.

What you will never see though is:  How in the hell did his wife put up with his shit for twenty plus years????  I ask him to take one kid to soccer practice and you’d think I had asked him to donate his live, beating heart for a transplant!  Where is my husband when I need him????

Or:  I work full time, too!  Why am I the one stuck doing all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, and laundry?  I feel like I’ve got five kids and not four.  Maybe it’s not too late to get my husband back….

Oh this is fun!  Here’s another one:  I thought I had met my Prince Charming.  Well, since he’s my cousin I actually had met him years ago.  But I thought once I lured him away from his wife he would be MY Prince Charming finally.  He cooked, he cleaned, he bought us lots of shiny stuff, he made pancakes for my kids, he was always up for fun outings.  Now that we’re living together he just sits in the bedroom and watches TV.  He doesn’t want to go anywhere, just wants to sit around and drink.  And since he has to pay child support and spousal support he can’t buy us stuff all the time!  I’m stuck doing EVERYTHING.  He can’t even run to McDonald’s and pick up a couple of orders of pancakes for my kids now.  Boy, did I get fooled!

Similarly, CF will never acknowledge the fact that he chose a woman who is already unfaithful to him while I remained faithful for over 21 years. Or that he chose a woman and children who value him for his wallet and nothing more while he tossed away the woman who spent years following him around the country and helping him to build his career, and the children that loved him and wanted his TIME and ATTENTION.

How do I know all of this?  First, I’m really smart.  Second, I read a lot.  Third, I’ve seen it play out already in his family.  But I’ll save that story for another time.  Suffice to say, though, that the exact same things that were said about Husband #2 in order to justify dumping Husband #1, were then said almost verbatim about Husband #3 in order to justify dumping Husband #2.

There was no personality transplant.  Not for her, and not for him.  There was just a cheater’s handbook, and they all play the same game.