An Open Letter to Cousinfucker, Part 1

January 2016

I wrote this shortly after I received the famous text from CF.  I never sent it.  It got to be way too long; I essentially vomited up twenty plus years of rage and frustration and I figure if I was lucky he might read two or three sentences.  Nonetheless, I’m quite proud of it and I thought I would share.  Most of this is undoubtedly a repeat of things I’ve already shared.  There’s only so much that happened in the beginning and since I don’t speak to him if I can help it I don’t get a lot of new material.  Anyway, here it is.  Enjoy!

Sam, let’s try to figure out a way to make this less stressful for all involved. I am saddened that you felt compelled to toss out all of my memories and my clothing.  There are so few of them in this house.  In spite of all that has happened we have a history and that cannot be erased no matter how badly you want it to go away.  So you have a choice.  You can be bitter and hateful toward me, or respect the fact that I am setting you free of the burden of being my wife.  I know you will take a hit financially but you will be well provided for, we both know that.  My attorney has you covered for the rest of your life.

So stop all of this foolishness.  Let our children know I love them and let’s act like adults and come to a healthy relationship apart from all of this.  I respect you as a mother and you have followed me around the country and I am grateful to you for that.  Let’s build a future relationship that we can both be happy for each other and our children and show them that happiness and being whole are vital to a person’s future.  I read everything you wrote on your fake Facebook page.  I know you have been very unhappy.  It’s evident in what you wrote and your depression has heightened in the past two years.  I know you will be whole without me, we aren’t good together.  So all that said I want you and I to work on this.  To be grown up about it for the sake of our children.

I am not even sure where to begin with your long rambling text so I suppose I’ll begin with the obvious.  I’m not sure who you wrote that for but it wasn’t for my benefit.  Quite frankly, I’m not even sure you wrote it yourself. Secondly, you are not a victim so it would be refreshing if you could stop acting like one.  You are also not a hero so please stop acting like you’ve somehow done me a favor by cheating on me.  Again.

Do not patronize me with your “Let’s stop this foolishness and figure out a way to make this less stressful.”  Do you know how you could have made this less stressful?  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while you were married to me.  You could have refrained from having sex with your cousin while your children and I were on what was supposed to be a family vacation, a vacation (and family) you blew off so you could have sex with your cousin.  You could have refrained from moving me and your children 2000 miles across the country, uprooting our lives for *your* happiness, only to turn around and start up yet another affair with your cousin.  You could have been an adult and talked to me instead of turning to people who have never been there for you during your many crises.  You could have refrained from siphoning off thousands of dollars to your mistress while you lied about it and fed me a line of bullshit about it being for your mom.  You could have stood up and tried to act like a man instead of trying to convince yourself and everyone around you that you’re some hapless victim.  And as far as making this less stressful for everyone… what on earth about this is stressing you out?  You do whatever you want!  You live here during the week not caring whether there is enough in the bank account to pay bills or not, and then you take off every weekend to be with your mistress and her kids, spending money like it’s growing on trees and having yourself a fine time.

I have spent the last 2 years walking a tightrope for you, protecting you and being respectful of all your “issues”. I hid your affair from everyone in my family.  I let you get away with directing how I was allowed to heal.  I was even at the point where I was accepting the fact that your mom was going to continue to have a relationship with your mistress.  And what have you done?  You’ve thrown me under the bus time after time.  Not only that but you’ve actually had the audacity to act like you were somehow protecting me while throwing me under the bus! Half the time (if not more than half) you’ve told outright lies about me. Let’s not forget the biggie- you started screwing your cousin!  I don’t know why I continue to be amazed at how you can cheat on me, not once but twice (and with the same “woman” no less!) and yet still manage to act like you are the injured party.

To be continued…

 

A Word About Being Bitter

Bitter is just one of those catch all words they use to make you shut up.

I read that one time by a commenter over on Chump Lady. I paraphrased a bit but the message is the same. I think it’s very true. I’ve also pointed out before that people are uncomfortable with people being angry. You can be sad. For an appointed amount of time. You can be upset or distraught. Also for a pre-determined length of time. But anger is a no-no. People don’t know how to react and they get uncomfortable. Then they try to shut you down.

I won’t be shut down. I’m righteously angry and I’ll get over it when I’m damn well ready to. I’m in the fight of my life right now. I don’t have time to pretend that everything is sunshine and rainbows and unicorns eating fairy dust mixed with golden nuggets.

With that out of the way I have to say I’m amused at how many of the “new” commenters on my blog the other day referred to me as “bitter”, “filled with rage”, and “angry”. Honestly, I felt kinda like I did that night when I read Cousinfucker’s texts to Jezebel, telling her that I wrote horrible things about him and said he was annoying me and wasting my time. I couldn’t believe I had written such vile things about him; when I looked back it turned out I hadn’t. It was a figment of his imagination. Completely. I had written nothing during this time he said I was maligning him. I did the same thing this time; I had to go back and re-read because I thought I had gone kind of easy on the original author. I thought, “Maybe I’m crazy and I really did do a hatchet job.” But no. It was pretty tame compared to some of what I write. I did concede to one commenter that I probably could have picked a better title. Perhaps, “Another Option” or “A Different Path” might have been a better title than “More Bad Advice”. It would have suited it better seeing as how I didn’t think his advice was totally off the wall insane and horrible.

I mean, I dared to tell people that might not have the fuzziest of feelings towards their ex that it wasn’t the end of the world. That it was normal and they shouldn’t beat themselves up. I even made a joke about it not being as if they actually had the power to do something by simply thinking about it and if they could then to please think about me buying the winning Powerball ticket. Funny stuff. Not angry. Not bitter. Not raging.

I did take issue with this idea that somehow I was to blame for picking an asshole to father my children. He wasn’t an asshole when I married him. Or at least he hid it well. I never in a million years would have pegged him as a guy who would cheat on me. I thought maybe he would leave me one day but I never thought he’d cheat. Jeez freakin’ Louise, I had one of his friends tell me CF would never cheat. He was supposedly too loyal. I also never thought he would abandon his children or flat out refuse to pay child and spousal support. Joke’s on me because he’s done all three of those things.

I dared to suggest that planning events on your own time, or finding a support system that doesn’t include your ex, or buying another whatever item is needed is a perfectly legitimate way to navigate this divorced parenting situation. How horrible! I didn’t say DON’T cooperate with one another. I said, “Hey, don’t feel guilty if that doesn’t work for you. Instead of kissing your ex’s ass, especially if the ex is an ass, think about these alternatives.” But apparently that is talking out of both sides of your mouth. You know, you agree that something can be good or at least not harmful and then suggest an alternative.

I also said I had no problem with parents sharing information and that I think it’s a shitty thing to do to your kid when you won’t let them contact their other parent. But apparently the fact that I no longer consider myself CF’s personal secretary is an affront to everyone who loves being buddy-buddy with their ex.

I will say again it’s not a side effect of treating your ex well that should insure you know about doctor’s appointments and school happenings and athletic events. In some cases, your ex should be telling you regardless. Kinda like what I did when I let CF know about Rock Star’s injuries over the summer. I told him despite the fact that he hasn’t seen her in over a year. Not because we’re best buds, not because he treats me well, but because he is her father and as the default custodial parent I have an obligation to share.

I also ventured forth with this radical idea of actually talking to your child to get information. That, apparently, is bitterness speaking because anyone with an ounce of common sense knows you can’t ask your own child what they are up to. <<< BTW, that was sarcasm in case you couldn’t catch it.

I said repeatedly that most of the things he views as a perk for treating your ex well could very easily be seen as treating your child well. It hurts your child when they are prevented from talking to the other parent. It hurts your child when they’d like to see their favorite cousin who is in town for the weekend but can’t because the parents won’t switch weekends or give extra time- just because.

I dared to speculate that some of those kids who aren’t healthy and happy aren’t healthy and happy because of the other parent’s behavior and not because their parents aren’t acting like they’re best friends despite the divorce. I’m sure any issues my friend’s daughters may have is not due to the fact that their mom doesn’t want to sit next to their father at a school or sporting event. More than likely it’s due to the fact that he is an out of control alcoholic who attempted to strangle one of them. But I could be wrong and maybe everything would be fine if only Mommy and Daddy would be best friends. <<< more sarcasm

I also suggested that maybe you need new friends if you have to continue to act like everything your ex does is wonderful, even when it’s not wonderful. I guess that’s the bitterness talking. Or maybe the rage. I tend to think it’s practical. They’re not really your friends if they’re fine with someone gutting you. I prefer my friends be loyal to me, not my spouse who left me. Your mileage might vary. But what do I know? I’m the person that has pretty much cut off everyone in CF’s circle if they support him and the whore. Self-preservation and sanity are such frowned upon commodities!

I stand by my suggestion that even if you can’t stand your ex that you can still show up at child related functions and support your kid. You don’t need to sit next to the ex. No one needs to be fooled into thinking the two of you are still married. Why is that so freaking important if you wanted a divorce anyway? You put on your big boy or big girl panties and you go and support your child. I’ll put forth an even more radical notion. If you simply cannot bear to be around the ex it’s fine to skip an event or two, or to even take turns going. Your kid is not going to die or suffer some sort of self-esteem issue if both Mommy and Daddy are not at every single function the kid has. My first choice, of course, would be to just go and deal. It’s usually a pretty big space so you shouldn’t have to see or interact with the ex anyway. But if it is that unbearable don’t go. It doesn’t mean you’re a horrible parent if you don’t go. It doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person if you don’t go and hang out with your ex.

I will vehemently oppose this idea I need to accept the fact that I loved, or still love him in some way in order to feel better about myself. And the idea that we now have a new kind of love along with a brand new family model.

No, I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. The fact that I loved him at one point in time is irrelevant. At one point in my life I wanted to be a veterinarian. That does not mean I am one now. At one point, not that long ago, CF was depositing his entire paycheck into our joint checking account. That’s not happening anymore either. The fact that it used to doesn’t mean shit; it certainly isn’t paying my bills.

I’m not rejecting any sort of reality by realizing that the marriage we once had is now over. I’m not rejecting any sort of reality by recognizing that the person I thought my husband was does not exist; in fact, he may never have existed. I’m sure as hell not rejecting reality by not wanting to be best of friends with the disordered, lying, cheating sonofabitch. He’s not a good person. I like to hang around good people.

We do not have a new kind of love and we do not have a brand new family model. Divorce ends families. It does not create a new, better kind of family. It reminds me of that crap he tried to pull shortly after I discovered his affair. He was all, “Let’s build a new relationship built on happiness for one another; let’s show our kids that happiness is vital for our well being.” Fuck you, Cousinfucker! That’s easy enough for you to say. You’ve got your new life all mapped out. You did it before you ever left. You’ve got a new whore, new kids; you’re looking for a new job and are planning on moving to a new state. And what do I have? I’m destitute, being left to raise two kids who have lived a life of privilege. I don’t have a new man. I don’t have a fucking job. And I’m the one being left to pick up all of the pieces of the family you’ve broken while you go along your merry little way without taking a second glance back. If that’s rage or bitterness talking, well, I’m okay with that.

Once again, I think it’s being practical. I think you end up being a hell of a lot better off not thinking that your ex owes you anything. I’ll go so far as saying you end up faring a hell of a lot better when you don’t rely upon them. You never know when the new family will take precedence, when the new girlfriend or current mistress will get upset with something you’ve tried to work out together, when it will simply no longer be convenient for your ex to assist you. Stepkids or new babies can easily become the priority. What happens if the ex moves with the new family and now he or she is no longer there to help out with your shared child? You’re kinda screwed; instead of cultivating a new support system, one that doesn’t include the person who made vows to you and then called, “Take back!” at best, who lied and cheated and has attempted to destroy you at worst, you’ve relied upon your ex. You relied upon the very person you shouldn’t have because they’ve already shown you that they don’t keep their word. Why?

Because the Internet is full of people who will tell you to stuff down shit sandwich after shit sandwich for the good of the children. It’s full of people who will tell you that if you’re not “friends” with your ex then obviously you are bitter and angry and can’t move on. And that makes the children sad.

I was also amazed at all the concern over my children finding my blog and being hurt by what they read, and this idea that there was no way I could keep my feelings from my kids.

First, as I already pointed out, the Internet is a very big place. I highly doubt they will stumble upon it. Second, if they did come across it I’m not writing about anything they haven’t already lived through. They are fully aware that their father deserted them. They are fully aware of the fact that he’s having an affair with his cousin. They are fully aware that everyone in his immediate family is perfectly fine with his affair and that they think it is wonderful. They are also fully aware of the fact that we had to move out of our home and out of the state because he lost his job and made absolutely no attempt to pay support. My daughter is fully aware of the fact that she had to switch high schools right before her junior year and that she didn’t get her license until she was almost 17 because she had to start all over with a learner’s permit a month before she was due to get her license.

I chose not to lie to my kids. They were 13 and 15 when this happened. When they asked where their dad was after yet another disappearing act on his behalf I answered honestly. He’s in his home state with his girlfriend. Remember, this is the same man who couldn’t go out to dinner with us. He couldn’t go out to dinner with his own kids for their birthdays because he was “afraid” of breaking down. He stayed secluded in the bedroom and couldn’t go out. Naturally they are curious as to how it is that he is suddenly taking off for the weekend every time they turn around. I was honest. I wasn’t going to try to gaslight them or fall on my sword for the lying jackass. When they asked me if everyone down there knew about the affair I replied simply, “Yes.” When her voice got higher and she asked, “And they’re okay with it?” My answer once again was a simple yes.

I’m also perfectly capable of not talking to my kids about everything I might talk to another adult about. There are so many awful things that he has done that my kids have no idea about because I didn’t share it with them. $30k blown on the whore and her kids on such important things as sporting equipment, eye care, Vera Bradley, and numerous restaurants? Didn’t tell them. Him accompanying her youngest to show and tell? Never said a word. Him donning a t-shirt with her daughter’s school mascot and going to her cheerleading competition? Didn’t mention it. Spending just as much, if not more, on her kids for Christmas? They have no idea because I never told them. The engagement ring he bought the whore? The puppies (yes, plural) he bought her kids? The promises of a car to her oldest? They know nothing about any of that. Talking about how much the whore misses having him in her bed when he returns home after a long weekend? Again, not me talking about it. Him moving into a new house that looks almost exactly like our old home? Have not clued them in. Would you like to take a guess as to who it is that posts all that kind of crap over Facebook? Harley and CF!

Harley loves Facebook. She loves tagging her brand new love in all of her posts. She loves letting everyone know how blissfully happy she is now that she has cheated on her husband and is fucking mine! Why wouldn’t she? She gets major kibbles from all the sycophants around her, telling her how happy she looks and how she deserves it. I think she deserves a quick roundhouse kick to the head but that’s neither here nor there and we’re getting off track. The main point is it’s pretty silly to clutch your pearls and moan in despair that one day the children might read your blog when dear old Dad and his whore of a cousin post about that crap on a public Facebook page! Um, CF has sent a friend request to his daughter numerous times; I think she’s actually accepted it. So… maybe if knowing that her dad couldn’t be bothered to attend many of her sporting events while he hightails it to the whore’s kid’s events proudly wearing her high school colors might cause his own daughter pain then might I suggest he and the whore not post about that shit where she can read it? I can goddamn guarantee she can find her dad’s Facebook page (especially considering they are friends) a hell of a lot easier than she can find my blog.

I think my favorite part though was when it was suggested that my kids could sniff out fake-ness, suggesting that there was no way I could rage against Cousinfucker and call him “unsavory names” on my blog and yet still remind them of the (few) good things he had done, or try to recall the (few) good memories we had. Because again it’s almost impossible to vent in an anonymous blog and not say the exact same words verbatim to your kids… I have to wonder though, how authentic is it to force yourself to be friendly with someone who has walked all over you, humiliated you, lied to you, broken your heart, and shattered your life? Isn’t pretending that everything is just awesome and you love this new life that has been forced upon you fake?

Sam’s Epic Christmas Meltdown

 

December 2014

Oh you sonofabitch and fucking bitch! I had the “privilege” of reading my husband’s text to his sister. She started off by wishing him a Merry Christmas, I believe, and mentioning that she had heard we’d be down there but they’d be in Florida. Shocker. Then she goes on to tell him she sent me a friend request but I declined it “so I’m done reaching out now.” Really, you fucking bitch? WHAT exactly have you done to “reach out” besides sending me a self serving friend request a year and a half after you FUCKING ENCOURAGED MY HUSBAND TO LEAVE ME FOR HIS WHORE???? I would really love to know. Was it when I told you you should call your brother the night I was refusing to come home when I found out he planned on marrying the whore and you said you were sorry for your part in all of this? Or when you would patronize me with your “I understand,” comments whenever I would voice my hurt at what was done? That’s some stellar reaching out.

Then my asshole of a husband goes on to APOLOGIZE for ruining her relationship with me. Tells her it’s all his fault and, oh, how I love this part, he never should have tried to be happy. Thanks, honey! So glad to hear I’m your penance. Tells her he’s heavily medicated and she’s been a wonderful sister and so supportive.

The best part? She still hasn’t answered him back. Yes, let’s kiss her ass, throw me under the fucking bus, and after bitching about how self centered she is and how she’s never there for him tell her she’s just the best thing ever and it’s all my fault!

Sonofabitch! I’m seriously thinking of leaving his ass once again. Hey, Harley Buttwipe Whoreface, your soul mate may be on the market! That’s probably not nearly as intoxicating as stealing another woman’s husband but a soul mate is a soul mate, right?

I’m so fucking tempted to text his bitch of a sister and tell her I’m giving her the best Christmas gift ever- a divorce! Now you can call your brother’s whore and tell her he’s available and get the two of them together. Then you can have your fantastic family get togethers with your “new sister!” and everyone can rejoice that they got rid of me, the horrible evil wife.

FUCK YOU BOTH!

Present Day Sam Says: I freely admit that this was not a nice entry.  I was pissed!  However, I’m not sure it really rises to “cheat on your wife” upsetting.

Here’s the best part though. Blockhead was feeding him information. He was telling him what I had written. I can see in black and white the word “divorce” and the phrase, “I’m seriously thinking of leaving his ass once again.” My question is, did Blockhead see any of the words preceding that? I’m painted as the bitch because I’m legitimately upset and yet the whole, “Throw Sam under the bus” bullshit is completely ignored.

It’s like me being extremely hurt by the fact Jezebel is acting like she is the poor put upon victim means nothing. Let’s gloss over that and concentrate on Sam being angry. Let’s ignore the part where Sam writes about her husband telling his sister he never should have tried to be happy. None of that should matter. The only pertinent parts of this entry are the ones where Sam is going off the rails. How can you not see the pain and insecurity in that post?

The answer is easy. He was never my friend and he was actively campaigning against me.

In the end it doesn’t matter. They all got what they wanted. I’m gone. Harley’s in my place. They’re all happy.

You Know What Today Is!

Blast From the Past 28

March 2014

I’m continuing to read and one of the things I’ve noticed is that most of these wives are PISSED months and years later. My favorite site says you shouldn’t forgive too quickly because you can’t heal if you’re burying everything and being on your best behavior. It also says that the cheating spouse doesn’t want to deal with the hurt that they’ve caused and they want to sweep everything under the rug. I think that really describes Zack. He doesn’t want to deal with the fallout of his affair. That’s why he’s never told his mom why I’ve distanced myself from everyone. Instead of telling her, “Look, Mom, I know this is my fault and I’ve put you in an uncomfortable position but you are choosing to continue a relationship with the woman I had an affair with. I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do but if having a relationship with my wife is important then you’re going to have to cut ties with Harley. You can’t have a relationship with both of them so you need to decide which is more important to you.” I know he’s told me he keeps their conversations very superficial.

I also know he wants to focus on the future and not on the past. Well, isn’t that convenient? But here’s the thing. I KNOW what our problems were. Lack of sex and intimacy. Not doing much of anything together. Not spending time together. Barely having a conversation each day. The kids coming before anything. Living like roommates. He felt like I didn’t care about him and he was nothing more than a paycheck and a handyman. I’m not sure how much we can explore that. I sincerely believe it was a perfect storm. He had told me this stuff, or most of it, on a few occasions and I had ignored him. I admit I got tired of trying. I gave up. And then he reconnects with her on Facebook and she’s unhappy, too. You have two unhappy people and suddenly you’re madly in love and thinking you’ve found your soul mate because this person understands exactly what you’re going through. Throw in the excitement of an illicit affair and the fact you’re both in this fantasy bubble and you have Zack and Harley. So what else is left to say? What’s left to explore?

I think it helps, too, that I was so clueless. I didn’t have to deal with knowing about the affair and him refusing to end it. I did have to deal with the uncertainty of our marriage all summer long, but I didn’t realize she was a factor.

The only time I got angry after my initial confrontation was in October when I found out they were planning on meeting up in June, she was planning on getting her sparrow tattoo, and he was bragging about marrying her. I’ve had triggers and moments of despair, but no angry fits.

So, I’m left wondering if I’m recovering correctly, or if I’ve let him off too easily. Only time will tell, I suppose.

Editor’s Note:  I definitely let him off too easily!  Don’t make the same mistakes I did.  If you’re going to reconcile make sure your cheater is truly remorseful.  Don’t settle for morsels.  Don’t let them pout and whine and get away with not doing the work.  And if they don’t want to deal with the fallout of what they’ve done then dump them!  That should have been my big clue.  It was always about him and how he felt.  Never about me and how I felt.  I was just supposed to get over it.

 

What NOT To Do When You (Try To) Reconcile

I’m not sure how much information I have to offer.  I tried reconciliation the first go round.  I actually thought we had achieved that.  Apparently I was mistaken.

Choosing to reconcile or to divorce is a very personal decision.  I don’t attempt to sway anyone in either direction, but I will try to offer some helpful tips on what not to do if you’d like it to be successful (and even these things might not be enough).

  1. Don’t let the cheater give you a list of things to do so that you may improve.  I think that’s probably my biggest tip.  I made it too easy on my cheater, my little shit eating chimp.  Way too easy.  He felt no shame in asking for various changes on my part. He felt quite comfortable telling me how he wanted me to text him all the time- like she did. Send me pictures- like she did.  Come sit outside and watch me as I mow the lawn.  Maybe bring me something cool to drink- like she said she would.  Come sit beside me.  Just touch me when you pass me by.  Text me just to say hi- like she did.  Did I have a list for him?  Of course not!  I was just so thankful to get another chance at making my marriage work it never occurred to me to give him his own list.  I’m sure that if I had given him a list I would have heard the same thing I always did:  That’s just the way I am.  Having been through this already I can tell you that you shouldn’t be the one doing all the work.  The cheater is the one who should be winning you back, not the other way around.  Don’t fall into that trap.  If the cheater is trying to get you to win him/her back, giving you a list of things to improve so that he/she is not tempted to cheat again, or trying to convince you that this is all your fault while conveniently refusing to take responsibility for any of this mess then chances are this is not going to be a successful reconciliation.
  2. Don’t let go of your anger too soon.  That’s another one of those things I did.  Again, you want so badly for everything to go back to the way it was.  Everyone tells you to get over it or to not be bitter.  Everyone wants to preach about forgiveness.  Let me tell you- I can hold a grudge like no one’s business.  I’m good at it.  But hating someone takes absolutely no time or effort on my part whatsoever.  I’ve always said that if holding a grudge takes a lot out of you then you’re not doing it right.  My philosophy for long term grudges is this:  I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.  But then again I’m not going to seek you out to see if you are on fire, nor am I going to try to burn you alive. The popular opinion seems to be you should forgive someone who has wronged you for your own benefit.  Screw that!  Jesus might forgive Cousinfucker and Harley but I sure as hell don’t have to!  They can kiss my ass.  And here’s the thing.  If your cheater really loves you and wants to make things right with you then he or she will take your anger.  They will realize they deserve your anger and will rightfully ride out the storm instead of whining about how mean you are and how sad they are feeling because you won’t let them off the hook.
  3. Don’t let the cheater tell you to “focus on the future” or try to make you feel guilty if you are still angry or get triggered by things.  Focusing on the future just meant my shit eating chimp didn’t have to face his shitty behavior.  Let’s not focus on the fact that I lied and cheated and deceived; let’s focus on the future.  How well do you think that would go over if I took his whole pay check and spent it on a Disney cruise?  “Baby, let’s not dwell on the fact that we don’t have money to pay the mortgage or the utilities; let’s focus on the future!  We’re going to have so much fun on that cruise!”  Cheaters want to change the narrative.  Don’t let them.  Let them know you need to fix the problems from the past before you start focusing on the future.
  4. Don’t operate from a position of fear.  I know it’s scary.  I know change is hard.  I know no one gets married thinking, “Wow, I’d really like to be married for about 20 years and then get a divorce and start my life completely over.”  Unfortunately you’re going to have to confront all of this shit head on.  You cannot operate from a position of fear.  You need to feel like you are in charge.  If your cheater insists he or she is in charge then you should probably dump their ass and move on.
  5. Don’t let them get away with not sticking up for you.  Another big one that I was guilty of.  I believe I’ve said before that Cousinfucker never stuck up for me.  I told him almost immediately that it was very painful to watch as people in his family continued to fawn over that white trash whore.  His response was that he couldn’t control them; they were adults. His mom would act confused about why we were no longer close and his reaction was to act equally bewildered.   What he should have done was confronted the issue.  Hell, the first time any of them liked Harley’s pictures or complimented her after they learned of his affair he should have put his foot down.  Fuck this idea that they are grown people and he can’t control them!  It’s not about controlling them, CF.  It’s about sticking up for your wife and letting them know that if they are going to continue to have a relationship with your whore that you will no longer be able to have a relationship with them.  If your cheater can’t put you first then you are doomed.
  6. Don’t believe in coincidences.  The list I have is fairly long.  The first time around it was solely the fact that once he returned from a visit to find her picture put up all over the house I was mysteriously blocked on Facebook.  Naturally he knew nothing about that.  That was all between her and I.  This time around there was the refusal to take either of the kids the first time he was going to “visit his mom”.  I have no idea if he was truly going to visit her, or if this was going to be the first time he went to see Harley, but either way he didn’t want the kids to accompany him.  There was also Harley liking his mom’s post about having a handsome son (one of those annoying “Share if you Agree” posts), liking her post when she asked for prayers for him, liking his picture on his sister’s page, and suddenly developing a desire to advocate for vets with PTSD.  Finally there was his staunch refusal to take our daughter to a funeral with him and the fact he was sleeping with his phone. All huge red flags.  And all things I refused to see as such.  Don’t dismiss those red flags as coincidences!
  7. Don’t be afraid to confront the cheater.  That was a biggie for me.  I didn’t want to rock the boat.  I didn’t want to bring things up again.  I should have.  I should have questioned and raged and made his life a living hell.
  8. If you have a list of things your cheater needs to do in order to stay married to you stick to it!  This is another area where I went wrong.  My list was fairly small and straight forward:  Get rid of the whore/maintain no contact, give me the passwords to all electronic communication, get the passcode off your phone, attend marital counseling, let me know if she ever makes contact with you, stop discussing our marital problems with your sister.  I also let him know that this was not going to be an overnight thing; it would take time to rebuild.  Yeah, right.  See #2 and #3.  The big baby was frustrated within a month after DDay if I asked questions or had a bad day.  Bad sign!  That meant he wasn’t willing to do the work. Get rid of the whore/maintain no contact?  Hmmmm….. he was supposed to send a text letting her know it was over.  Instead he called her.  I didn’t want a phone call; I can’t *see* a phone call.  Instead, what he sent as proof that is was over was her text to him, telling him how she couldn’t do this anymore.  It just wasn’t right; it was killing her to hurt her husband and children.  She begged him not to call or contact her ever again.  And my little shit eating chimp replied that her husband was right to tell me what was going on and gosh darn it he was going to be the father and husband and man he needed to be!  It was disgusting.  I never once got the satisfaction of actually seeing in black and white the words:  We’re done.  I choose my wife.  Get out of my life.  Nope, I got to read about honor and duty and sacrifice.  Let me tell you- that really warms a girl’s heart and doesn’t leave you feeling insecure at all!  As for no contact or telling me if she ever makes contact again… yeah, we all know that didn’t happen or this blog wouldn’t exist.  He did give me the passwords and got rid of the passcode on his phone, even offered to put my thumb print in on his phone when his company supposedly ordered them all to password protect their phones.  But then he began sleeping with his phone.  Plus he had already deleted Facebook when I tried to download the archive history.  Said Facebook made him feel bad about himself but I figure he was just afraid I would find something he didn’t want me finding.  Marital counseling was a joke.  He went but didn’t really participate and as I believe I mentioned before he was expecting it to be all about “focusing on the future”.  And finally he went all passive aggressive with the whole “do not discuss our marital problems with your sister who encouraged your affair”.  That obviously meant I didn’t want him to have a relationship with her so he was just going to cut her off altogether.  Except he didn’t because then how could he moan and whine to her about how I hated him?  Not only did he break our agreement he flat out lied about what was going on.  Double betrayal.
  9. Don’t accept being second best.  Don’t accept your cheater putting the whore’s feelings, comfort and safety above your own.  If she’s still his main concern you and your marriage are in trouble.  When I look back now I’m appalled at how much I put up with.  As I said above about the text… Her with her:  Oh, Cousinfucker, I just can’t do this anymore.  It isn’t right.  I can’t stand hurting my kids, hurting the one man who has stood by my side through good and bad.  We just can’t break up two families who have done nothing wrong.  Let’s just walk away. Go home and repair the damage.  Please, I’m begging you, don’t contact me- don’t call or text.  I’m deactivating FB. And him with his:  You are so right!  We can’t do this to our families.  I’m going to do my best to be a better husband, a better father, a better man. Don’t contact me either.  PUKE!  This came on the heels of our conversation where I asked him point blank if she was worth losing his wife and kids and he replied that he knew he didn’t want to lose his kids.  He was actually very honest about the fact that he told her from the very beginning that he would never leave his kids.  Apparently, he has rethought that, or maybe having them 20+ hours away wasn’t acceptable but being 6-8 hours away is ok.  I digress.  For all I know he had no intentions of ending it with her.  Maybe he called her and told her, “Hey, baby, the coast is clear!  My wife knows so now we can be together!”  Maybe she then realized it wasn’t going to be that simple.  Maybe he really did think he couldn’t liquidate his assets and move on out with her.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that none of that was what I wanted.  I wanted to hear him tell me he was sorry.  I wanted to hear that I was the one.  It wasn’t until after I told him that I deserved to be happy, too, (this was still before the lame ass texts he showed me) that he finally realized he might lose me and that he might need to up his game.  I will say that in our many conversations he did tell me that I was the one he wanted; she was a mistake, a midlife crisis, a cliche.  But those first two things that occurred?  Those colored my entire so-called “recovery”.  I always wondered if I was the second choice.  I think that if you really are going to reconcile that there should be no doubt that you are the FIRST choice, the ONLY choice.  A few days after DDay I told him I wrote back to her husband, letting him know that CF had deleted all the naked pictures his wife had sent to mine.  CF was crying I believe and begged me to leave her alone and just concentrate on us and our family.  “Let them heal and deal with all of their stuff, while we do the same!”  Oh, boo hoo.  I remember hissing at him, “Do not beg for mercy for your whore!”  Again, lots of concern for the whore.  Not quite so much concern for the wife.  That is a no-no.  I don’t want to portray it as though he never tried to prove I was the one he wanted.  We went out on dates.  We spent a weekend away.  He told me how much he loved me and did at times say Harley was a huge mistake and she wasn’t the one he wanted; she was simply a cheap substitute for me.  In the end, though, those things he said in the beginning wouldn’t go away.  They always left me insecure.  His talk of happiness was always a huge trigger for me as well because he admitted that he had told his sister that Harley made him happy.  I felt like she could do something I couldn’t no matter how much I had tried for years and years.  Maybe if we had talked about these issues a little bit more instead of trying to bury them and “focus on the future” something good could have come out of it.  But that’s not what happened.  Don’t do what I did!  Don’t accept being second best.
  10. Don’t accept this idea that your spouse needs to grieve the loss of their co-cheater.  This is not something that I personally dealt with much but I think it’s important.   About a month after DDay Cousinfucker was visiting his mom (by himself, of course) and I was questioning him.  I asked if he missed Harley and he admitted that he did sometimes; however, he went on to say that he didn’t think it was her that he missed so much as it was what she represented and the fact that she filled him in on things that were happening with that side of the family.  Yet another unacceptable answer.  It should have been:  Of course not!  She was a huge mistake and almost cost me my marriage.  I don’t even think about her anymore. At the time I was busy reading reconciliation websites and blogs; common wisdom seems to be  that this is natural, that your cheater has had an intense relationship with this person.  I’ve read blogs by cheating men where they are lamenting the loss of their whore.  I’ve read them by women justifying their affairs with their man-whores.  They seem to always think that by saying they were in love that excuses their treacherous behavior.  I’m not speaking of it excusing the affair.  They seem to think their “love” excuses the continued wistful thinking of the co-cheater.  It doesn’t.  The last thing any betrayed wife wants to hear is how her husband truly loved the woman he was fucking behind her back, and because of that, please be patient with the poor guy because he’s really really sad.  For any men that may be reading this please substitute the correct nouns and pronouns.  Yeah, if your spouse is still grieving the whore things are not looking good.  It’s not natural.  If you feel guilty about what you’ve done you don’t have time to miss the person who is inducing that guilt.  You are far too busy trying to make up for your misdeeds
  11. DON’T MOVE ACROSS THE COUNTRY SO THAT YOU’RE CLOSER TO THE WHORE!  That’s a biggie!  If the cheater is suggesting a move further away from the whore- you may possibly be safe.  But don’t agree to a move that will put you closer to the whore.  That was my big mistake.  I was way too confident and trusted my shit eating chimp way too soon.  He wasn’t worthy of all that trust.

I’m sure there are undoubtedly more things that should appear on this list but this is all I’ve got for you today.  There are many things I wish I could have done differently but this list highlights the main things I would have changed.  I needed the anger.  I should have confronted him, questioned all those coincidences, and made him stick up for me.  I suppose that would have entailed being very explicit with what I needed him to do.  I should NEVER have allowed him to railroad me into dancing for him.  He should have been dancing for me.  And it goes without saying that moving across the country closer to Harley was an undeniably stupid move.  But you know what?  Even that I won’t allow the blame to be placed on me.  I was a good wife.  I trusted him.  I put his feelings and his wants and desires ahead of mine all the time.  You are SUPPOSED to trust your spouse.  It is NOT my fault that he wasn’t worthy of my trust.  Or me.

Some Days I (Want To) Cry, and Others I’m Just Pissed Off

 

It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady.  And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough.  I think she rocks.  She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom.  I say, “Thank God!”  Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed.  I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil.  It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass.  But I don’t.  I’m looking long range.

There are times though that I get really pissed.  It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me.  He flat out lied to my face without a second thought.  He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones.  LIAR!  But, man, was he smooth as silk.  I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.

I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family.  Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message.  Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.”  And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages.  We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home.  LIAR!  He just kept conning me.

He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip.  I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself.  Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this!  And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered.  Motherfucker!

He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip.  You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip.  In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house.  Again with the lies.  Again doing it so casually.  And yes, that pisses me off.  To think that he was filled with such hubris.  That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me.  To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it.  Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that.  He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”  I replied, “Of course not.  She’s your mom!”  Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended.  HIS family wasn’t there.  Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event.  But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country.  You sonofabitch!  You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!

I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story.  “Oh, I’ve got to help them.  She’s my niece.  She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again.  Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend.  I’ve just gotta help!”  And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it.  Of course we’ll help.

I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most.  He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me.  We did help out our relatives.  I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary  for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare…  That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me.  You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before.  We’ve got it so why not?  You want to send your mom money for groceries?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  You sent her $500 to repair her car?  Um, ok.  You sent her $500 again?  For what purpose?  And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town?  This is getting suspicious.

But no!  He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville!  It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom.  And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it.  His mom didn’t ask for it, of course.  He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.

Yes, that shit pisses me off.  Again, you entitled jackass!  He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything.  And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.

I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin.  I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another.  What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure.  He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day.  Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday.  When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8.  What????  This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago.  This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety.  Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark!  Praise Jesus!  It’s a miracle!  But wait!  It gets better.  I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase.  Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass!  What a cute story!  Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral.  On Saturday.  And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday.  Oh, that’s a laugh riot.  Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night.  He will come home the next day.  Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon.  It’s a 6 hour drive.  It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired.  What’s wrong, Boo?  Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light?  Serves you right.  Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it.  Hey, I told you I was pissed.

All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret.  He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye.  That pisses me off.  It infuriates me.  You know why?  Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.”   That’s insulting.  No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING.  I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful.  I misjudged your character.  I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any.  He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear.  Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.

I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies.  “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.”  What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time?  Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts?  You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass!  That was probably a huge lie, too.  “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.”  Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well.  “I trust you.”  Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective.  You were off the charts stupid!  Yes, that’s me talking to myself.

I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night.  “Oh, I’m not texting.  I’m playing Words With Friends.”  Seriously?  You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?

Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?”  I don’t know!  Yes, I do.  I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again.  I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that.  I liked my life.  I wanted to keep it.  So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have.  It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger.  He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger.  Over and over again.  We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away.  He’s my shit eating chimp.  I couldn’t walk away!

I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me.  You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots!  You’re fucking your white trash cousin!  Don’t be checking me out.  I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds!  I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support?  Because I did.  Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers.  I didn’t fuck around this time.  I started lining up my ducks.

I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.”  I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time.  This time it was his turn.  Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going?  He thought I knew.  And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back.  No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser.  Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time.  Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs.  Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin.  It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days.  The hubris.  A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore.  Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was.  Did he want to show her?  Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me?  Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was?  Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  it just pisses me off.

I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids.  Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what?  Is he just daring me to say something to him?  She can have you and all of your issues, too.  But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.

I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her.  That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”.  No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.

Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!”  You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag.  And I didn’t steal YOUR money.  That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.

Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days.  I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.

I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.”  Fuck that!  I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard!  Very, very civil.

I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids.  How dumb do you think they are?  This isn’t your mommy and your sister.  Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do.  They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years.  They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted.  Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.

I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him.  I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.

I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him.  I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car.  Busted!  I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said:  Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin!  Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying:  A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet!  Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!

I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own.  I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own.  He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack.  But it still pisses me off.  All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent.  He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act.  He’ll get tired of it eventually.  And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is.  Is he?  Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job.  In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad.  But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well.  I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them.  What better way than to buy them off?

I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck.  Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.

I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not.  Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of:  I pay child support and that should cover everything you need.  Ever.  That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment.  He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance.  I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money.  But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook.  Hey, here’s an idea.  Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances!  Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!

I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her.  Or at least that’s the plan.  Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss?  That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything.  Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck.  Boo hoo.  I feel so bad for you, CF.

I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US.  No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us.  But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is.  And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns?  Seriously?  For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine?  That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change?  Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!

I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives.  But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us?  Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?).  He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it.  So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE.  She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us.  Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives.  O.M.G.  That is hysterical!  He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing.  And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do?  It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.

I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job.  Grateful?  How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me?  Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky.  The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it.  But he’s grateful.

Just like he also “respects me as a mother.”  Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that.  Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me.  I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE!  And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).

It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through.  We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy.  The end result is he didn’t give a shit.  It was never enough.  My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her.  So HE could be happy.  My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello.  Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires.  My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression.  She has lost her drive.  My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state.  I left behind friends.  I dropped all my activities.  For HIM.  Because he was unhappy where we were.  So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go.  My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape.  Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family?  A selfish asshole, that’s who!  He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving?  WTF!  It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades.  SURPRISE!

It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities.  He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids.  He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away.  Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away.  He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets.  Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house.  Nope, he’s free and clear.  He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities.  He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.

If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him.  Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better?  What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women?  Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve.  You know who should have had a list of things to work on?  You!  You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back.  You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up.  Not me!  Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me.  I never wanted him to dance for me.  But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM.  I didn’t cheat.  I didn’t lie.  Instead he let me know what all *I* could do.  Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it.  I wanted to save my marriage.  I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents.  In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life.  In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.

In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.”  Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response.  He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me.  Oh, barf!  She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months.  I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point.  He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.

It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me.  I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do?  They’re grown adults.”  He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it.  And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family.  Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out:  Stop interacting with Harley!

It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen.  He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch.  He never corrected any of the fallacies.  Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance!  He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why!  Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers?  I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.

Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes.  Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom.  You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning.  Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”.  Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”:  Big mistake.  Huge!  I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend.  I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.

It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him.  What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”?  Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE?  Oh no!  Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.

It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.

It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out.  YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH!  Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother.  You have condoned this.  You’ve welcomed her with open arms.  You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”

It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage.  There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page.  Did he really think that was going to help CF?  I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did.  Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion:  No, it didn’t help.  In fact, it put him into a suicidal state.  Was the best buddy around for that?  No.  He had his own life to live.  Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him.  He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.

There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me.  Where was she when he was in the hospital?  Oh, that’s right!  She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him.  At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another.  Welcome to the club, baby brother!

Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal.  And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.

If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off.  Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM!  Lies, lies, lies.  As he blows up our lives completely.

THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down.  No, not so much stuff it down.  I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back.  This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding.  We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done.  Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn.  I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking.  To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck.  I’m a duck.  It’s all like water off a duck’s back.”  Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage?  Such irony.  Can we call that the circle of life?  I digress.

I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done.  Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns.  Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side.  I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit!  So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.