That Time Sam Was Ready To Throw In the Towel

April 2015

My darling daughter crashed my car into the garage door on Friday.  Fortunately Zack was able to fix it.  He spent the weekend mostly in bed. And then today the dog knocked the trashcan over in the bedroom and I found 2 vodka bottles in there.  One probably didn’t have much in it to begin with but I’m pretty sure the Moscato flavored vodka was almost completely full.  So I’m getting pissed.

Honestly?  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.  I’ve dealt with his damn anxiety and depression for over 20 years.  I’ve dealt with his drama of thinking everything is a disaster, and his reluctance to help with the kids and be a partner to me.  For quite a few years now.  I’ve dealt with having to go to family events and family holidays without him; I’ve dealt with going on vacation without him because he wanted no part of it.  I’ve dealt with having no couples friends pretty much since OB.  I’ve dealt with low key holidays and him napping and everything else.  I’ve taken him to the ER every time he gets sick and I’ve dealt with and survived his affair with Harley, all the while he’s lying to me and humiliating me.  I’ve moved my ass from my home state to State #2 down to State #3 and back to State #2 before moving across the country to State #4 and then back across to State #5, all in the name of his career.  I’ve dealt with him being locked up in a psych ward.  I’m dealing with all the PTSD shit now.  But I’m not sure I can add on him becoming an alcoholic to my list.

I didn’t even spend that much time with him this weekend.  He slept most of the weekend.  Every time I went upstairs to check on him he was asleep.  I went out to grab some lunch from McCallister’s around 2 and he was up but when I came home he grabbed his food and went back upstairs.  I’m exhausted and I’m not even dealing with him. He has an appointment on June 2nd with a psychiatrist and I’ve got an appointment with my doctor tomorrow morning to be put on anti-depressants.  I hope to God it helps. I’m also trying to get him in to see a new therapist that does EMDR therapy.  At least that’s what Google is telling me.  I can end up calling and finding out she doesn’t do that after all. But I can at least try.  Like I said, I’m exhausted.  I don’t know what else to do.  I keep thinking I should call our pool contractor and cancel the pool because I don’t know what’s going on in our lives.  I try to be happy.  I try to look for the positives.  But then I’ve got all of this going on.  And I hate to shake up my kids’ lives yet again. So I guess I’m dedicated to making this work and doing everything I can to help him get better.

I’ll tell you, though, some days I wish that little bitch had gotten her way and he had left me for her.  I’d love to watch her deal with him, especially with the added guilt of what he had done to me and to his kids.  I don’t know why all this has bubbled to the surface lately.  I have my suspicions.  I am willing to believe it could possibly be because he finally got what he wanted in regards to work, and now if he’s not happy, well… where does he go from there?  It’s one of those what do you do when you’ve achieved the dream you’ve set for yourself situations?  Or, there is a slight chance I suppose that he’s leading a double life and the stress is killing him, but I give that about a 1-2% chance.  See?  I’m evolving!  More than likely the guilt and stress of him cheating on me and then moving us across the country (the man does not deal well with change) was already doing a number on him and then when Blockhead told him about my other FB page he completely lost it.  He was an anxiety ridden mess for a while but it’s gotten really bad over the last few months.

In other words, I have managed to send my husband to the psych ward.  I have damaged him perhaps beyond repair.  Is that fair?  I mean, I’m already dealing with this shit and trying to repair a a marriage and focus on the fucking future all the while I still have questions and my in-laws are fawning all over her, and now I’m supposed to stuff all of that deep down inside because it bothers my husband to know that I’m not totally, 100% over everything that went down.

I was thinking about this the other day.  As I’ve said before I have tons of time to think since I have no life here.  Here’s what I want to know (or at least some of what I want to know):  I want to know who made the first overtly sexual move.  I know he told her she looked fantastic.  I know she whined about her marriage.  I want to know who started the fucking affair.  Who made the first move?  Who took it from friendly conversation to soul mates destined to be together forever?  Was it her with her, “I can envision a future with you” remark?  Did he say something before that?  I don’t know, because he won’t answer my questions.  Or he conveniently forgets.  I want to know how he was planning on having a future with her but wasn’t going to leave me.  How was that possible?  What was he telling her?  What were they planning?  How much thought did they put into their little plan?  Did he tell R he wanted the Whoreville plant before he got involved with Harley, or did he tell him that once they decided he would move closer to her?  I want to know what the hell happened the day I confronted him.  I want to know why she sent that text message that made it sound like she was the one calling it off.  I want to know why on earth he was more concerned with her feelings than with mine, if indeed the truth was she sent it to save face or to prove to her husband that she ended things. What I want is to be able to go back in time and have him text her that it’s over, that his wife knows and she’s told him she’s done playing these games and that he needs to pick because she deserves to be happy too.  And then I want him to dig the knife in deeper and tell her that he’s chosen me, that he loves me and he’s always loved me and when he realized that he could lose me he also realized how much he loved me and wanted to make our marriage work. Finally, he would follow it up with:  It’s over.  I won’t be contacting you anymore and I want you to leave me alone as well.  My wife is my only focus now.  You were a terrible mistake and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to my wife.  Ok, ok, ok.  I know that’s pouring it on a little thick but that’s what I’d like.  I’m being honest.  No matter what he may have said to her in their conversation, when she texted him with all of her drivel he still chose to let her have that instead of slapping her down hard and thinking about me.  I want to know why in the hell she and her husband seemed to be divorcing right when we were buying a house in Whoreville, their target city.  I want to know why she was liking Tammy Faye’s post that talked about having a handsome son.  I want to know why in the hell that bitch was liking Tammy Faye’s post where she asked for prayers for Zack.  Those are some pretty damn big coincidences and I no longer believe in those.  I thought it was a quirky coincidence when she blocked me right after I had her picture up in our house.  Turned out it wasn’t a coincidence at all.  They were still having an affair and my husband told her about the pictures. And speaking of those pictures… I want to know exactly what was said about the pictures.  Did she ask if I was suspicious?  Did you tell her you thought maybe I suspected something?  How did that conversation go down because it’s pretty damn apparent to me now that she blocked me on purpose to let me know she was still messing around with you.  So what was said?  I’d love to know.

I could play this game all night and well, all year, really.  Hell, maybe the cunt is even more devious than I ever imagined and she knew full well that I had that other page and could use it to watch her.  Maybe she deliberately staged it so that when we bought our house she closed everything down so I would be suspicious.  Maybe she did the same for the other posts where the bitch shouldn’t have been liking anything having to do with them.  I think it’s rather elaborate but I wouldn’t completely put it past her either.

Oh well, I need to go.  I’ve got a lunch date with my husband tomorrow and I think I might eat a burrito before picking up Rock Star.  Tons of excitement here!

Present Day Sam Says: He probably was fooling around with the whore at this point. Little did I know when I said, “I sometimes wish that little bitch had gotten her way and he had left me for her,” that she was getting her way and he was planning his exit into her loving whore-y arms right then and there!

I find it interesting, too, that I decided drinking was the final nail in the coffin. I had already put up with so much but I wasn’t going to deal with an alcoholic as well. Would I have left if there was no infidelity but he continued with his drinking? I’d like to think I would have but I don’t know. This was April and I continued to spin straw into gold in my quest to keep this marriage alive. I think I might have stayed until the very end, although I was finally getting fed up with everything.

In the end it was good that he left. I don’t think I ever would have and he was killing all of us slowly. He’s still killing all of us; he’s just doing it a lot more quickly now!

Another Bad Day Back in 2015

March 2015

Today is shaping up to be a bad day.  Yesterday was not hot either. I called about getting a loan for a pool finally.  Found out, as expected, that we can’t do a home equity loan because we just bought the house and don’t have the equity needed to get one for the pool.  So, we’re left with a personal loan.  To borrow the full amount would end up being a payment of $850 per month.  No fucking way.  So, I ask about how much stock he has because he had said he would do whatever was necessary to make sure we got the pool.  He has around $30,000 he can cash in; that doesn’t take into consideration the taxes, which he thinks would be around $10,000.  We would still need to take out a loan for the rest of it. A $20,000 loan would amount to a payment over 7 years of about $340.  That’s doable, although I hate the fact we’re paying that on top of depleting all of his available stock.  I’m still debating whether or not to go through with it, and it all hinges on whether or not the loan goes through. There’s also the fact that we have no idea how much of our savings is going to go towards taxes, if any, because we don’t know if we owe or not.  And there’s also that pesky little business about his week long hospital stay in the psych ward and not knowing if insurance will cover it or if we’ll be paying on that for the rest of our lives.  So that was my plight yesterday, and yes, I know in the grand scheme of things my problems are not that big.  It’s not a problem at all, simply a disappointment.

Today I’m in a slight funk just thinking about how embarrassing my situation is.  Everyone involved with Zack knows what he did.  I’m sure they look at me and think, “What did she do wrong?  Why did he cheat on her?  What were her failings?”  I’ve got his best friend spying on my FB page and reporting back to him.  I’m sure he and his wife got a great laugh over the fact that Zack cheated on me, and of course, I’m painted as the crazy one.  He’s perfectly sane and I’m a nutcase.  A nutcase that deserved to be cheated on.

I’m sure everyone in his family knows he cheated.  I’m sure they’re all talking about it and why I deserved it and how much they love Harley and wish he had chosen her.  I mean, why bother to have an affair if you’re not going to leave your wife?

I’m so tired of feeling humiliated.  I’m tired of being portrayed as the bad guy.  Zack somehow is a fucking saint and I’m the awful person.  Maybe I should go off and fuck some guy and then *I* could be the good guy!  But no, I have a moral compass and my moral compass says no sex with someone other than your husband. So I guess I get to remain the bad guy because we all know only the cheaters are the good guys.  And I continue to be humiliated and embarrassed by the fact that my husband cheated and it’s the topic of conversation with all his friends and family, while no one on my side knows what he did, with the exception of 3 people.

I’m tired today.  I’m tired and I’m depressed and I’m in a shitty mood.  He swore this move was going to be a positive.  It was exactly what he needed.  And he’s been unhappier here than I’ve ever seen him.  We made promises to our kids and we are slowly breaking all of them, one by one. I did not move 2000 miles away from my friends and uproot my kids’ lives so we could downsize and give them less.

I’m really pissed about this pool.  I’ve been telling everyone we’re getting one and now that it’s go time there’s a distinct possibility that we won’t get one. Who’s going to come visit me now?  Hey, we have a quilt museum! Or, if you don’t mind getting in the car and driving 30 minutes to an hour we can go visit some caverns. And if you’ve got some cash to spend on a hotel room in DC, that’s only 2 hours away but if you don’t spend the night you’re going to miss out on a lot. But as far as BFE goes?  Yeah, there’s nothing.  Absolutely nothing. I can take you down to where the food trucks are. That’s exciting.

And while I’m in bitch mode I’ll just say it.  This is not my dream house.  We bought this house because we could put a pool in the back yard.  If we’re not going to put a pool in then I would have preferred the house over on Diamond.  That was my dream house.  It was gorgeous.  Marble entryway. A larger hallway.  A kitchen that had an island and a breakfast bar AND space for a kitchen table.  We don’t have that here.  We have to eat at the island or at the dining room table in the dining room. No kitchen table.  That house had amazing views of the city.  We have no amazing views.  The master bedroom was bigger and had a sitting room, plus the bathroom had a separate jetted tub and shower, as opposed to my discount hotel shower/tub combo.  The family room had a built in wet bar.  The enclosed porch was big enough for a table and chairs plus a hammock.  It was gorgeous out there.  We have a small square closed in porch.  It fits a table and chairs.  That’s it.  No hammock.   Then they had a much bigger hot tub, also on the deck, and a separate deck off the master bedroom. And they had 2 fireplaces. I really really liked that house.  The only drawback was the backyard and not being able to put a pool in.  And the kids would have gone to Whoreville City schools so Rock Star wouldn’t have the friends she has now, but does that matter?  I mean, she wouldn’t know she had lost anything.

So anyway, I’m in a house that I think is ok.  I don’t hate it but I also don’t think it has a single feature that makes you say, “Wow!”  It never made my top 3 list of houses I thought I would pick when looking online, although I will admit that when we walked through the first time I did like it. I bought this house that is ok because it had a large backyard where we could put a pool in.  We chose this one over the house in D because 1. someone else was going to bid on it, 2. it was not fenced in and we were going to need that, and 3. lack of storage space.  We chose it over the one on Diamond because of the backyard.  That was pretty much it.

OK, I think I’m done bitching.  Maybe.  I’m still pissed about the pool.  And I’m still furious that I have to deal with the humiliation of being cheated on. And I don’t like being talked about like I’m some nutcase or like I deserved to be cheated on.  But, I’ll get over it, I’m sure.

Present Day Sam Says: I’m not sorry I bitched about him and the humiliation I felt knowing everyone in his family knew I was cheated on. I am sorry I bitched about my house.

I grew to love that house. I turned it into a home. I turned it into our home. Then he turned around and destroyed it.

I’m also slightly sorry about bitching about my pool. In hindsight those worries are so insignificant and at the time they were in the forefront of my mind. But as I’ve frequently said it’s not like I would have emerged from this situation with any more cash. He would have cashed in even more stock and handed it over to Harley and the hooligans.

Trying To Make Sense of the Nonsense

 

March 2015

Let’s see them hack into this!  There is more than one way to skin a cat. At this point I switched over to journaling on my computer.

I’ve been thinking.  A lot.  Mainly about Jezebel and her comment, my favorite, about how he deserves so much better than me.  About my husband’s comment to his other sister, how it’s been 2 years and why can’t we just move on? About that sister and her snide message to me about me worrying about the house and then turning around and booking airline tickets. About being grateful.  About accepting reality.  About moving on. About pain shopping, which dovetails nicely with moving on.

OK, we’ll tackle moving on first.  It’s very difficult to move on when your husband doesn’t do the few basic things you’ve asked for in order to reconcile.  I told him that 1. He needed to send Harley a text and end things with her.  I wanted to see the text to prove that he actually sent it, and he was to have absolutely no contact with her after that. 2. He was to give up all passwords to me and remove the passcode from his phone. 3. We were going to attend marital counseling. 4. He was to never discuss our marital issues with Jezebel again.  What did he do?

Well, instead of sending her a text and ending it, he says he called her and ended it.  That’s nice, but that’s not what I wanted.  I had a purpose behind wanting you to send a text.  I wanted to see it in black and white.  I wanted to see him write:  My wife knows about you.  She gave me an ultimatum.  I choose her.  We’re done.  Don’t contact me ever again.  Did I get that?  No, I got the replay of his supposed phone call to her. And then I got her text which makes it look like he actually chose her and she ended it.  Furthermore, his response to her was based on not wanting to hurt her.  He felt bad for her.  Her- the mistress of 3 1/2 months.  Not me, the wife of almost 19 years.  I got a reply about honor and duty and obligation.  Not love.  Not choice.  Am I supposed to believe him without proof when I vividly recall asking him if she was worth losing his wife and kids, and he replied he knew he didn’t want to lose his kids?  Am I supposed to believe him when he would have sex with me and then turn around and walk out our door and text her good morning and then precede to talk to her on his entire 30 minute drive to work every.fucking.morning?  That is some strong faith, and if I’m not there yet so be it.  I figure I mainly believe him.  I only have doubts some of the time.  It’s been 2 years?  Nah, not really.  We’re coming up on 2 years of your half hearted confession where you couldn’t even admit you were doing something wrong, or that she was your whore.  You tried to make it sound like she was one of many and it was just a little texting.  No, it wasn’t.  It was her, and only her.  And you were telling her you loved her and you were telling other people you loved her and she made you happy and you were going to marry her. On top of that, you two were talking about sex and what all you were going to do to each other, and you were talking about a future together and she was sending you naked pictures.  It’s been 2 years since you tried to confess and pull the wool over my eyes at the same time.  It hasn’t been 2 years since I discovered the truth.  We’re at about 18 months for that.  18 months since I found out the extent of your lies and betrayal.  18 months since you told me you didn’t want to lose your kids.  18 months since you told me you hadn’t been happy in years.  18 months since you admitted that you two talked about sex, and how much you loved each other, and how much you wanted to be together.  18 months since you told me you two really really liked each other. 18 months since I received The Saint’s FB message asking me if I had gotten a good lawyer yet.  And we’re at 16 months since I discovered you bragging to your nephew about marrying her, after insisting to me that you two had no concrete plans.

So that’s part of the not able to move forward movement.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what their plans were.  I don’t know what all they talked about.  I don’t know how far into the planning it got. I don’t know that I was his first choice. I have no proof of that. Again, for all I know he called her up right after he got off the phone with me and told her I knew and I’d issued an ultimatum.  And then he told her she was his soul mate, his one true love, his very best friend, and the love of his life and there was no way he could give her up.  For all I know he told her, “I choose you, Harley!”  And Harley, being the manipulative, deceitful cunt that she is warned him that if I got wind of his choice that I’d probably run.  Maybe she even reminded him that I already had airplane tickets to fly to my home state in 2 days.  “If you want to keep your kids around, then you need to make sure she thinks you chose her.”  And then the good little whore proceeded to tell her husband she was leaving.  And her husband said, “Fine, but you’re not taking the kids.  They’re all disgusted with their whore of a mother.”  That’s when Harley finally realized she and my husband weren’t going to be forming their own version of the Brady Bunch, that there might be bumps in the way, and that the path to true love was not going to be a smooth one.  Maybe her kids gave her a ration of shit.  Maybe the two oldest told her they weren’t going to live with her.  It was at this point she decides it’s just not going to be worth it and that’s when she sends her bleeding heart text to Zack.

Is that really all that crazy?  Why is that version any less believable than the one he told me about?  At least in the second version I have her text ending it. It would be lovely if, instead, I had a text from him ending it.

What else did he do?  Well, he did in fact give me his passwords and take the code off his phone.  And to his credit he did recently offer to have my thumb print be one of the prints that could open his phone.

Marriage counseling?  He went but he didn’t really participate, and our counselor told us that is was pretty much a waste of time after 3 or 4 sessions. If we ever went again I think it would be interesting to hear his side of everything that happened.  It seemed to be mainly me talking because he didn’t much participate. I’ll give him credit for going when he didn’t want to, but I’m not giving him credit for anything else.  He didn’t participate and I don’t think we got much out of it. At this point in time I’m tired and I’m not willing to go again so I guess he’s safe.

And not discussing our marriage difficulties with Jezebel?  We both know that one went completely off the rails.  He performs a fucking Shakespearean soliloquy when he’s telling everyone all my faults and everything I’m doing to him, and I get a fucking one line reprieve when he pulls his head out of his ass.  I know that’s not a kind way to put it, but it pisses me off. And upon looking up how to spell soliloquy that’s not really the best description.  That’s what I perform on a daily basis when I’m raging!

That brings me to another point- the concept of the man in the middle. There is a poster on a board I like to read and she often says that many times you can look to the man in the middle as the source of conflict.  I’ve thought about that a lot and I believe it’s true, even with this.  He throws me under the bus to Jezebel, goes on and on and on about how horrible I am, and then says, “Oh, my bad!”  Is it any wonder she hates me?  He doesn’t tell her the good stuff.  He’s too busy getting his head patted when he’s the poor, oppressed little brother married to the evil, awful wife who uses him as a handyman and a paycheck. Man in the middle.  Have no doubt, I’m still not pleased with her encouraging him to leave me when he was fucking around.  And I’m definitely not pleased with her latest round. But he poured gasoline on the fire, and he did something I told him not to do ever again.

His mom and stepdad are another case in point.  I told him in therapy I didn’t like how Pastor Fake was gushing over Harley’s picture.  It was hurtful.  His attitude was, “I can’t control what he does.”  Then shortly thereafter his mom gets online and tells her she’s sooooooo pretty.  I unfriend them (they were sharing an account at the time) and probably blocked them at the time.  Undoubtedly unfriended them from my daughter as well, and blocked them.  I know she must have asked about it but instead of coming to me and saying, “Hey, what happened?  My mom says she’s blocked on both your and our daughter’s page,” he acts like he can’t control anything.  I keep thinking that if he had only pulled his mom aside in the beginning and said something along the lines of, “I know I created this mess, but if the two of you want to have a relationship with my wife and kids you’re going to have to distance yourself from my mistress.  It is upsetting to my wife to see the two of you acting all chummy with the woman I cheated on her with.  We both know we can’t control you and you can both do exactly as you want.  But I’m here to tell you that there is no way you can have Harley in your lives and have my wife and kids in your lives.  So you’re going to need to make a choice.”  Or even a much shorter, condensed version:  My wife can see you two gushing all over Harley, joking with her, telling her how pretty she is. You know that I cheated on her with Harley; therefore, she has no desire to associate with anyone that wants to be a part of Harley’s life.  It’s that plain and simple. You can have a relationship with my wife, or one with my mistress but you can’t do both. (Believe me, I tried! ba-dum!!!).

I think that’s part of not being able to move on, as well. I think I have made tremendous progress in accepting the fact that his parents will never turn their backs on Harley.  They will always be kind to her.  They will always compliment her.  She will always be around.  And I, in many ways, am forced to accept that. I’m forced to accept the fact that I will never be around for any family events because I don’t know if the whore will be there or not, and I don’t want to be there if she is.  I’m forced to accept (and I know this is morbid) that when his mom dies I’m going to be going through 3 levels of hell.  I’m going to have to deal with Zack and his grief, I’m going to have to deal with his bitch of a sister, and more than likely, his whore will show up. It’s very difficult to move on and forget about her when she is front and center all the time, or at least it feels like that.  She was praying for my husband last month.  Praying for him!  She has a front seat into the window of our lives.  Anything my in-laws post on FB about us, about my kids, that bitch can see. How do you move on from that? How do you move on from your in-laws thinking that your husband’s whore is a swell person?  I keep expecting her to show up at Thanksgiving and for them to offer up the use of their bedroom so he can fuck her.

I read about pain shopping yet again yesterday.  It’s not so much that I want to do that, it’s more I don’t want to be ambushed.  I guess when you don’t feel safe or confident you continue to look over your shoulder.  I don’t know that I was his first choice.  Hell, I don’t even know for certain that he’s not back in contact with her again.  I don’t know that someone won’t throw facts at me, facts of which I have been completely unaware of for over a year, which might result in my own downward spiral. I don’t look on her page that often.  I check every now and then to see if she’s got a new profile picture up.  I occasionally check my in-laws’ pages to see if she’s commenting or liking certain things.  Of course she is!  Good ol’ Harley can’t fade into the background. Oh no!  Look at me!  Look at me!

I know I’ve said it before and I will say it again.  Not knowing the bitch is being welcomed with open arms by all who know about her and Zack doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.  And closing my eyes and pretending like as long as I don’t see it everything is ok, is just living in a fairytale.  It does no one any good.  Eventually, you wake up and you discover the truth and you feel betrayed.  I’d just as soon get it out of the way.

I guess what it boils down to is can I accept what happened?  Sure.  I can accept it.  Doesn’t mean I like it.  Just like accepting who my in-laws are.  It hurts me very much knowing they can embrace the woman that almost tore my life apart.  But, I accept that that is who they are. When I am with them I enjoy being with them and I love them.  However, I will never have a close relationship with them again.  I simply cannot do that, not when they are still in contact with Harley and act like she has done nothing wrong. I will never be willing to go out of my way for them again. I don’t call.  I don’t confide.  I let Zack handle it. Honestly, I prefer to keep my distance because I’m afraid I’ll be sucked in if I get too close.

Can I accept the fact that I’ve been moved 2000 miles across the country to live in this Godforsaken town where I know almost no one?  Sure.  It’s reality.  I can pretend I don’t live here but what good would that do? I can pretend that we can go back to our former state but I know that we can’t.  Whose job is he going to take?  Especially when they just got a new GM and a new PM less than a year ago.  Where will we live?  Are we going to ask the new residents of our home to kindly move out because we’d like our house back?  No. If I’m being perfectly logical most newcomers to the area head over to two up and coming areas.  Our kids wouldn’t be going to school with their old friends; they’d be at a new school.  My daughter could go back to her old gym but she would be competing as a Level 8 once again, more than likely, and all of her former teammates would be 9s.  My son could play hockey again but he’s lost a year and he already started late so he’d be behind as well.  No, we are stuck here, at least for 7 years until they both have graduated from high school.  Then my husband can yank me away from my new life, and at the rate I’m going now that won’t be a bad thing. I’m so tired of hearing, “You need to get out there and meet people!  Volunteer! Take classes!”  Um, I’d love to meet people but that’s a little difficult when you’re 46 and not in school and don’t have a job. There are no classes to take. Quite honestly, I’m sick and tired of being the new person.  And volunteering?  Where would you suggest I volunteer?  The PTA?  They don’t seem to have many opportunities.  I’m supposed to go tonight for an after prom meeting where I will know no one and the woman in charge is going to ask me to solicit donations, which is something I absolutely hate to do. HATE IT! This gets me thinking that if everything PTA does needs to be funded with business donations I want no part in it. Oh, I also found out that I was sent an email to see if I wanted to volunteer at the book fair for the middle school.  It went to my junk mail and I didn’t get it until after the book fair was over. Lovely. I could go to a PTA meeting but again, I’m tired of putting myself out there.  I’m tired of being the new person.  I’m 46, for crying out loud!  My life should be settled.  I shouldn’t be scurrying around trying to find a whole new set of friends.

I tell myself to think back on all of our other moves.  OB was easy.  I had just turned 29 when we made the move. We went out with all of his co-workers.  And from that I became friends with some locals and they introduced us to other people. In the next state I started out by participating in an online group.  I got very lucky and those people met weekly.  I put myself out there and I joined their group. Gradually, other people joined in as well. Then, right before my daughter turned 2 I started going to church; when my son was an infant I volunteered to help in the nursery. A few months later I became a team leader in the nursery.  Gradually I did more. I became a small group leader.  I joined the meal team. I think when my son was around a year I joined MOPS.  I became part of the hospitality team with them.  I started a MOPS group at our church. I was there 6 years and it was gradual, but my calendar filled in.  Plus, it helped that I had family only 2 hours away. I think I found my online friends within the first 6-8 months. I was 31 when we moved back to State #2, just under 2 months before my 31st birthday. We moved a few months before I turned 38. In State #4 I think it began after I volunteered to join PTA.  It was about 5-6 months later.  The following year my daughter was competing so I made some friends that way. PTA just became a huge thing for me.  I met a ton of people that way.  And I met some people through my kids.  This time it just doesn’t seem as easy. I was 45 this time when I left. I’ve been here coming up on 8 months.  They have been the longest, loneliest 8 months of my life, I think. I don’t have online friends.  I don’t have a church. I don’t have PTA; it’s pretty much non-existent.  I certainly don’t have MOPS. My daughter competes alone most of the time. This next meet all of the girls meet together.  But here’s the thing:  most of the girls are young, like 10-11.  Their moms are young.  I don’t want to hang out with them.  I don’t need to be overrun with 30 somethings while I’m nearing death. I do have some parents I can sit with at the high school meets.  That’s nice.  But that’s it.  I know a few people on sight.  I’m still shocked when I run into someone I know at the grocery store because it happens so infrequently. I am grateful for the outpouring of support from the few people I do know when Zack was in the hospital.  Our neighbor called and offered to help with whatever we may need.  S offered to take my daughter to gymnastics.  C prayed for us and checked in on us, offering to run errands or bring a meal.  D took my daughter to gymnastics and grabbed food for both of my kids.  I felt very fortunate to have that help and those offers.

So, this is my reality.  I’m far from family.  I’m far from friends.  I’m not fitting in or finding a niche.  I really really hate it here.  I’ve booked tickets for me and Rock Star to go see the state gymnastics meet back in our former state at the end of the month.  I’m looking forward to that.  Can’t wait to be around friends again. Can’t wait to see all those cute little gymnasts that I get to cheer on for the first time this year.  I’ve missed this.

I’ll save Jezebel’s asinine comment about him deserving something better for later.

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

February 2015

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

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

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

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

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

More of Poor Pitiful Zack

January 2015

Zack has been very sick (like, hospitalized sick) and has also been dealing with extreme anxiety. Lots of war issues. I noticed though that he would ask, “How can you ever forgive me? How can I make it up to you?” And I started thinking, why would I need to forgive him for what he did in war? Why would be need to make it up to me? So now I’m wondering if he was actually talking about his EA. He was in such rough shape I didn’t ask if we were still talking about the war. In my mind, though, that’s what he was asking about.

Present Day Sam Says: If I’m being honest I would like to believe that he really was struggling with believing I didn’t love him. Because that would mean he did actually love me. But in a twist of fate if that really was what happened then it’s too easy to try to take responsibility for what he ultimately chose to do.

If I believe he was psychotically depressed over the thought of losing me, that he was suicidal at the thought, then it’s too easy to me to say, “See? It’s your fault. If only you had reassured him he wouldn’t have left. If you didn’t have that alternate Facebook page then you’d still be married. YOU caused all of this! You have no one to blame except yourself!”

Here’s the thing: Regardless of whether or not he thought I would never forgive him (Newsflash: I had! I moved across the damn country for him!) the way he chose to solve this dilemma was entirely, completely and utterly wrong. He had many options and yet the one he chose was to cheat on me. He chose to confide in others who were only too eager to urge him to move on and leave me. When the cuntface cum dumpster called him he could have refused the call. He could have told me she called him. He could have been honest. That would have required some courage on his part, though, and he is sorely lacking in courage.

Likewise, if he was truly so unhappy and felt unloved and like we could never repair our relationship he could have left before he found himself a new true love. I’m so sick and tired of hearing about all these pansy ass cheaters who are “so miserable” and yet never find the “courage” to leave until they’ve got somebody else to fuck.

Yes, nothing shows conviction like tossing aside your wife or husband once you’ve encountered someone you want to nail.

Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda

September 2014

Last month I posted about the differences between reality and what I sometimes feel I should have done. I know how I handled it. I was pissed but pretty calm, I think. I demanded that he end it. Honestly, I didn’t think he would and I was prepared to start divorce proceedings. I figured I wouldn’t come back from my home state. He must have thought that, too, because he told me he planned on driving out there to come get me.

But I wonder what would have happened if after confronting him and him admitting to loving her and wanting a future with her I had said: Fine. Call her up and let her know you’re free to be with her. Don’t bother coming home tonight. I’ll tell the kids you’re on a business trip and tomorrow I’ll tell them we’re getting divorced because you’re in love with someone else and you want to marry her. I’ll take my car to the airport on Friday morning and while I’m in my home state I’ll figure out what I’m going to do about all of our stuff and how to get it out there to us. CLICK.

Would the end result have been the same with the only difference being I wouldn’t feel like such a doormat? Would he have jumped at the opportunity to be with her? Would he have too much pride to fight for me after I told him I was leaving? Would it have sent him into a panic? Would he have, in fact, driven to my home state to come get us?

I could ramp this little fantasy up. He panics. He realizes he’s about to lose everything for some fantasy whore that he really doesn’t want if it means losing us. He calls her and ends it. He calls his mom in a panic, crying that I’m leaving him because he’s been having an affair with Harley and I found out. Maybe even texts his dear sister with the news. Of course, she’s no help. She’s good at helping people leave marriages but she’s at a loss on how to rebuild one. The news is spreading back in his home state like wildfire. She’s leaving Zack! He had an affair with Harley! I come home after the party and find him there. I ask him why he’s here and he tells me he won’t leave. I say fine and go into the bedroom to pack. I tell both of the kids to pack a bag. When he tries to interfere I ask him if he wants to tell them now. They are frantic now, wanting to know what’s going on. Of course he doesn’t want to say anything but I calmly tell them that he’s in love with someone else and wants to marry her so we will be getting a divorce. We probably won’t be coming back from my home state and we’ll probably be moving in with Nana.

Ok, honestly, I don’t see the part involving my kids happening. The last thing I wanted to do that day was ruin the memory of her party. I remember thinking that this would be her last good memory before her world came crashing down. I would hate to throw the discovery of her father’s affair and the fact that she was going to lose all of her friends and teammates basically overnight on her that night after having such a great day.

So, if he came home against my wishes I would probably have just ignored him, told him to go talk to his future wife. Hey, it’s all out in the open now. Call her. Text her. You’re free to be together now without all the hiding. Maybe he would have been begging me to talk to him, to reconsider. Maybe he would have told me he ended it right after he got off the phone with me. Maybe he’d be begging me for a second chance.

I’d like to think the outcome would remain the same. Eventually I would agree to work on this marriage and to not run off to My home state and file for divorce. We’d make up. I’d forgive him. He’d answer my questions. The only difference is one of pride.

Can it be said that a person is too rational, too calm, too focused on the goal of keeping the marriage together? Or is that a good thing? I sometimes wish I had made him grovel more. I wish I had been more hot-headed, less rational.

I know he went through hell (well, let’s face it- his own version because hell is finding out your partner’s been cheating on you) even without me tearing him apart. I know he thought I wasn’t coming back and he was prepared to come get me. I don’t know why he thought that because as I’ve said many times I never told him I was filing for divorce. I never said I wasn’t coming back. I know he was frantic in October when I found those Facebook messages and I told him I wasn’t coming home after I dropped off our son and dinner. I know it hurt him to see me cry.

In the end what’s done is done. Regardless of what actions I took or what actions I wish I had taken it is in the past. He banished her. He chose me. We are still together. Despite my last few entries we are happy. God willing we will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary in 30 years and wondering if I want to acknowledge our 20th won’t even be a blip on the radar.

Clarity. Yes, at our 50th anniversary celebration this will all be so far in the past. If you look at our marriage, our life together, as one long winding road then this will be a huge pothole along said road, but only a pothole nonetheless. There will be beautiful waterfalls, and canopies of trees, and plenty of beautiful flowers and wildlife along the way as well. There will be hills and sharp turns and straight stretches and rough patches. There will be mountains and red rocks and countryside scenery and congested cities. Rivers and oceans and streams. And sometimes it may just be barren land that goes on for miles like I-80 through Nebraska or I-57 through Illinois. But those desolate drives always take you where you want to go. You have to look at the entire road and not concentrate on the potholes, the flat tires, the rough patches.

So, I may just go ahead and celebrate our 20th anniversary. In a big way. Hell ya we made it. We may not have made it perfectly. But who does? I won’t let some whore define us. I won’t let some whore take away our happiness and prevent us from celebrating a huge milestone. We may not have made a huge fuss in the past but nothing prevents us from adjusting and learning and applying what we’ve learned to the future. We’re not condemned to be stuck in the past. We can celebrate our marriage and make it a priority, even if we didn’t in the past. If we were miserable and just hobbling along then there might be cause to ask, “Why celebrate?” But we’re not. We’re good. We’re better than we’ve been in years.

I think that’s the point of the quote I wrote about. You can keep dwelling on the past but that won’t help. In fact, it usually does damage. But if you resolve to make a better future and you do exactly that it doesn’t matter what happened in the past. If you focus on the future, and the future is happy, then there is no reason to confront the unhappy past over and over. Or to put it another way: You can choose to concentrate on the past and be unhappy. Or you can choose to concentrate on the future and be happy. I choose to be happy.

Present Day Sam Says:  I should have left his ass back then. I should have done exactly what I wrote about- told him it was over and I wanted a divorce. I wouldn’t have disrupted my kids lives. I wouldn’t have bought a new house. I wouldn’t have moved half way across the country for that disordered nitwit. I would be done with him by now. I would have been supported by all of my friends. I would have had a support network. But no! I had to fight for the damn relationship! I had to give him a choice!

The biggest irony is that I didn’t want to cause a scene for Rock Star that day back in 2013 after her birthday party and yet in 2015 I ended up telling her and her brother about our impending divorce right after a pool party she had at our house with her cheer teammates.

I think the saddest part of reading this, aside from the excuses I would make for the asshole, is how I had hope.  I was so busy putting a positive spin on all of this and convincing myself that the worst was behind me.  Oh, Sam, if you only knew how bad it was going to get in a few months.  I should have kicked his ass out after I found out about him and Harley the first time, even if it wasn’t a physical affair (and I do doubt that at times).  I should never have agreed to move across the country and disrupt my kids’ lives.  I should have told him the kids were settled and I didn’t want to go.  I made so many mistakes.  All I can do is do better from here on out.

Sometimes the Prize Is No Prize

September 2014

All this talk lately of girlfriends, anniversaries, taking responsibility for your part in your spouse’s affair, rebuilding, punishing has got me thinking. If I don’t want to celebrate our anniversary and I don’t want to be around his family and I resent having to text him like his whore, and I hate the fact that good changes have come about out of bad does that mean I’m still punishing him? I don’t think it does. I think it means my eyes are open. I used to believe he would never cheat. His friend actually told me he would never cheat. But he did. He was unhappy and he found someone else, someone he believed made him happy, someone he thought he loved, someone he wanted to marry. And now I’m left knowing my husband is capable of cheating on me if he’s unhappy. I get to live the rest of my life knowing that I have to be on constantly. If I don’t fuck him enough, don’t suck his dick often enough he’ll cheat. If I don’t spend enough time with him, text him enough, talk to him enough, he’ll cheat. Maybe next time it will be physical. Maybe she’ll live closer. I pray I don’t get in an accident and become disabled. I pray I don’t contract an illness which would require him to care for me. In either of those situations I would no longer be able to fuck him and he’d cheat. And he’d have his sister in his ear telling him that if it made him happy that’s all that matters. What a prize I have “won”!

Yeah, I know this makes me sound bitter and unforgiving but fuck you! I don’t give a shit.

Forgiveness After the Affair

September 2014

It’s too late versus it’s never too late. Hmmm. I suppose it’s a matter of, well, mind over matter. Can you forgive? Can you eat shit? Can you smile while eating said shit? Can you just decide it doesn’t matter and to forge a new beginning? Forget the bad and concentrate on the good? Or, do you say, “It’s just too late,”? Telling you what I need, or needed, and you doing it now, is pointless. That’s where I am with my in-laws. It’s too late. It may be a case of biting off my nose to spite my face but if I actually have to say, “Cut off all contact with the whore and tell her why! Stop complimenting her and talking about getting together with her!” then it’s pretty apparent they don’t think what she did was all that bad. Hell, I think it makes it perfectly clear that they support her. Maybe they even wished he had picked her over me. So why bother?

I know without a single doubt that if my son ever fucks up the way his dad did I would never continue a relationship with his whore. I would contact her once to let her know I knew what had transpired and that in light of that I couldn’t continue a relationship with her. I would let her know that it was much more important to me to have a relationship with my son and his entire family. And hopefully I will love my future daughter-in-law so I would also tell her that, and that I would never hurt or betray my daughter-in-law by continuing a relationship with her, the other woman.

I sometimes think my husband wants to pretend that none of this happened. He wants me to act like none of this bothers me and just forgive and forget. Wouldn’t that be nice? And oh so convenient for him and his family. No, what he really wants is to take the easy way out and to not have to confront his family. He could have ended this a year ago when I told him I didn’t like the fact that his stepfather commented on the whore’s picture and told her she was beautiful. He acted like his hands were tied. I can’t tell him what to post! No, but you could have a conversation with your mom and let her know that immediate family interacting with your whore was painful and upsetting to me, and if they truly wanted to ever see me again it would probably be wise to discontinue their relationship with the whore.

It’s hard to believe there is no contact when everyone he spends time with down there has a relationship with her. Even if he is actively avoiding her it’s easy to see how she could come up in conversation, even show up in person. Easy to see how information about her could be passed along, even if he’s not interested.

No, when you get down to the root of it, me forgiving his family and pretending like none of this ever happened would be for his benefit, not mine. It’s easier for him to try to guilt me into going where I don’t want to go and putting on a fake smile, than it is for him to tell his family that their continued involvement with his whore is resulting in him having to choose between his family of origin and his wife. And by choosing between the two rest assured I simply mean that I refuse to go with him. He wants to spend the holidays with them? He’s free to do so. I won’t be there, though. The kids can go with whomever they choose.

Present Day Sam Says: Folks, this is yet another excellent demonstration of what not to do when you’re reconciling. If this is what you’re dealing with, RUN! He (or she) isn’t sorry. Things won’t change. It’s quite possible you’ll face another D-Day. Get out now!

Everything I worried about happened. Since they never had a problem with her (or the two of them as a couple) to begin with they didn’t have a problem when they hooked up again. Hell, they encouraged it!

Don’t be as stupid and trusting as I was. If your spouse’s family is still in contact with the other person, RUN! I can’t stress it enough. You will never feel safe. You will never BE safe. The interloper will simply hang around and wait for the right time to pounce. Even better- the family will tell that person when the best time to pounce might be. Get out now. Save yourself. It will not end well.

Not Letting the OW Take Up Head Space

August 2014

I’m finally back and ready to discuss not giving the OW anymore headspace. And healing.

Here’s the funny part. I usually feel like I’m pretty well healed. It was a short affair. Even the most dire of the so-called experts say it takes anywhere from the length of the affair to twice the length of the affair to heal. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe some say 3-5 years. But really? For a 3 1/2 month long emotional affair where they supposedly never met up in person? Twice as long would be 7 months. 3x as long would be 10 1/2 months. But I digress. As I said I usually feel healed. I read other affair blogs and I see the pain so many of them are going through and I don’t have that pain.

Shawn’s blog was started a year after her D-Day and she likes to talk about her road to happiness. She advocates, after a year of insanity on her own part, focusing on your relationship and putting the other woman out of your mind. I wonder sometimes what that would feel like. I don’t check up on the whore that often anymore. Nothing new and even if there were I couldn’t see it. I do still check to see if she has commented on my in-laws’ page. I can’t seem to let the pain die. I tell myself it’s because it’s good to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Don’t let yourself be ambushed.

I wonder what it would be like to just forgive and forget. To pretend that seeing my mother-in-law tell my husband’s whore that she was sooooo pretty, knowing she was the whore that tried to break up my marriage, wasn’t painful. To pretend that his sister encouraging him to leave me for the whore was forgotten and completely understandable. Honestly, I don’t see that happening.

I wonder what it would be like to trust him 100%, to still be stupid and naive and believe he would never cheat on me. I hate the fact that I get jealous now. I don’t feel it’s a sign of a healthy relationship. I hate wondering if one of his female colleagues is going to catch his eye, or more likely, that they’ll strike up a friendly relationship and it will turn into something more. And when I tell myself all I have to do is blow his mind I get mad at myself. Isn’t that just manipulating through sex?

I tell myself to observe how he treats me now- the adoring texts, how he says he thinks about me constantly, he always wants me, the way he’s willing to give me anything I want. He’s made more effort to be involved with the kids and he’s gone away on vacation with us *three* times now since April. He compliments me. He says he wants to marry me again. And yet, look at the second paragraph. I still preface everything with supposedly, or, so he says, or, if he’s being truthful.

I would like to believe it whole heartedly. If I think back to how things were before he confessed the first time I would say that he definitely treats me better and I don’t think he’s still messing with her. But if I look at the second half, the actual longer part of their great love affair, I can’t tell. Because I thought things were getting better and the reality was he was still hot and heavy with her.

I don’t know that I will ever be able to leave it completely behind. Just today as I was reading a blog I started to feel very melancholy. The writer was questioning why her husband chose her after spending more than 2 years fucking her best friend. Why is he so sad now, thinking he may lose her. I can identify with that. He says he called her and ended it after getting off the phone with me. I had made it clear I wanted him to end it via text so he could show me. Instead I have her text which makes it sound like she ended it. I don’t have the satisfaction of seeing in black and white the words: It’s over. I choose my wife. I love her. You were a mistake. You’re not worth losing my wife and family. No, instead I remember him replying, “I know I don’t want to lose my kids,” when asked if she was worth losing his wife and kids. And his lame text where he’s basically agreeing with her instead of taking a stand.

How could he tell her he loved her and wanted to marry her and then just suddenly change his mind? How can he tell his sister our marriage is dead and Harley makes him happy and he loves her, and then say, “Oops! My bad! Turns out I love my wife after all,”? Intellectually I know it’s all about the affair fog and affairs not being real relationships. But emotionally I can still tell myself it’s because he really did love her and he’s only here for his kids.

So, this is what I wrestle with a year later, almost 2000 miles from where it happened, in a new house and him in a new office, not the one where they texted and sexted for months. I’m soon going to be driving a new car, one that no longer holds memories of me raging against him or his family. Do these things matter? No, not really. I could have happily lived in the house where it happened, had him go into work every day in the office in which it happened, and not felt a thing. The cars don’t bother me either, although I do need a new one. I suppose I just keep trudging along, healing a little bit more each day. I know I’m not ready to forgive and forget. I know I’m not ready to trust 100%. I’m not ready to completely kick the whore out of my headspace. And that’s all ok. I’m getting closer every day, and if this is as close as I get then I’m fine with that.

Added later: I forgot to add I still have all her pictures on my phone. I still have her picture listed in my contacts for all of Zack’s family. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to part with that.

Added about a month later: Rereading this brought up the concept of pain shopping. When I first heard the term I thought it referred to shopping, perhaps recklessly, to dull the pain. No, it refers to going back to or searching out things that will hurt you. Like going to the OW’s FB page. Or your in-laws’ FB pages. To see how they’re interacting with one another. I suppose that’s true. I’m sure my relationship, at least with his mom and stepdad, would be better if I had never read them fawning all over my husband’s whore. But, me not seeing it doesn’t stop it from happening. Do I really want to be played for the fool again? I’m all- Oh, we’re one big happy family. So glad we got past that nasty affair business. And they’re saying- Oh we are, too. We love you! All the while they’re buddy buddy with the whore and I’m just an idiot who thinks I mean something to these people who obviously prefer his whore to his wife. I would prefer to know. I don’t wish to be ambushed anymore. I’ve had enough holidays and special events ruined thanks to being clueless. I don’t wish to have superficial relationships with people who remain in contact with the whore. That’s like saying I would have been better off not knowing about the affair. I’m better off not knowing about the affair and my husband’s betrayal, and I’m better off not knowing that every fucking person in my husband’s family thinks the world of his whore. Yes, because living a life where I’m constantly being lied to and humiliated sounds dreamy.

What Are You Up To, Whore?

Blast From the Past 53

June 2014

The plot thickens! Maybe I’m not the reason for her lockdown. I went to copy her phone number and for some reason looked at the about page. No mention of being married to the Saint. I figure maybe she’s just deleted that part, or locked it up, like everything else. So, I go to his page to see if he still has her listed. Nope. And his profile picture, which was a picture of them on their wedding day, is down. And she’s not on his friends list. I do believe they are getting a divorce.

That was my other suspicion when she was never posting her profile picture. I don’t know why. Maybe because it was around the time their affair began. And I did notice that even though she tried really hard to show the world she was in this fantastic relationship he never said much in reply. Maybe he wasn’t a big Facebook person.

My guess would be that she ended it. I think she’s probably fucking around again. Is it with my husband? We are moving closer. Or maybe she’s fucking around again so he ended it. Or possibly he just couldn’t get over what she did. Anniversaries can be a tough time.

Any way you look at it it’s a huge mess. Two people decide to be selfish and put their wants and desires ahead of everyone else. And how does it end? Harley ends up divorced. I have no idea how her kids are taking it but I’m sure they’re not happy.

Zack keeps his wife but she’s always just a little suspicious. She’s estranged from his entire family. Well, not the sisters and brother he doesn’t see all that often. You know, the ones he didn’t confide in during his affair. His mom is hoping everything goes back to normal and doesn’t understand why it hasn’t. His sister is whining about never hearing from him and not getting to see his kids. He pulls the “poor pitiful me” act whenever he realizes his wife will listen politely to all the drama surrounding his family, but in the end she doesn’t really care because she’s written off his family.

I’d like to ask them both: Was it worth it?

Maybe I’ll find out in a few months when I discover she left her husband once we moved closer so they could continue their affair and make it legitimate. Maybe it never stopped and he’s just a very good liar. Maybe she’s there in the hotel room with him right now as he texts me and tells me how lonely he is. Playing me for a fool again just like he did all last summer. We’ll see. And if it turns out that’s what happened they will both quickly learn they fucked with the wrong person.
Added two days later: She’s also taken down all her pictures of him except their wedding picture. And one of her last entries which thanked him for running her a bath and doing all sorts of things for her, is also down.

October 2014: He has her back on his friends list.

Present Day Sam Says: Ah, the joys of playing detective. What does this mean? What does that mean? It means you should RUN! How ridiculous is it to be “researching” her Facebook page and trying to piece together the clues? Folks, if this is you, your marriage is probably beyond saving. RUN! I cannot stress it enough.

I don’t know why but I tend to give him the benefit of the doubt that things were truly over at this point. If they were still messing around at this point then what would have been the point in Tammy Faye urging her to call him? Regardless it’s interesting to look back and see what was written and compare that to how things ultimately shook out. He did take their affair to a physical level. It was much more convenient- no need to fly. He could easily make the drive. He is a liar. And a cheater. They both played me for a fool all summer long. Hell, I’d go so far as to say they’ve probably been having a great laugh at my expense this past summer as well.

Hopefully they’ll both be able to keep their sense of humor when he’s sitting in a jail cell. On the bright side they’ll have matching mug shots.