I Send My Regrets

I have been informed by the mobster that I haven’t posted a new blog post since May 16th. My mom is on my ass as well. It’s almost like we don’t live together and she doesn’t already know everything that is going on. Nonetheless, this is the longest stretch I’ve ever gone without checking in. I’ve had so much to say but every time I get ready to write my eyelids feel like cinder blocks and next thing I know I’m falling asleep sitting up. I feel very bad for neglecting my readers so I have written a few haikus to explain what I’ve been up to.

Busy, busy bee

Time flies by like an arrow

Too much to do now


Video chatting

all night long with the mobster

Leaves me little time to write


Graduation day

For Rock Star has come and gone

CF showed up- wow


Big trip to Utah

A great time was had by all

Friends, wedding, food, fun

As you can tell I’m no poet. I have been busy lately. Work has been crazy. A good crazy, but crazy nonetheless.

The funny part about this job is that it takes literally three months minimum to be trained on everything. Now the fun part is getting quicker and better. I really do like it over there, but I feel like I’m going at a hundred miles an hour some days. I’m so envious of the only person in our little pod that has been there for three years. She knows so much and is so quick and efficient. She can take breaks and everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here struggling with this new round of assignments, trying to get everything done.

I have an 8 am deadline on one report and a 2 pm deadline on the others. Two weeks ago we had two out of the four people out. Last week one of our very important programs wasn’t working which made a huge report we do each day take an even longer time AND we had someone out on vacation. I go in at 7:30 this month but the first two days I didn’t leave until 5:30 and 5.

I would rather be busy and having the days pass me by though than to be standing in a teller line waiting for customers to come in.

Work has been crazy. Weekends have been crazy. I feel like I am constantly on the go.  May 2nd we took off to Orlando for Summit, which I’ve already written about. We came back on the 7th. The following weekend was my niece’s graduation from nursing school and Mother’s Day. The weekend after that my daughter had prom on Friday and the mobster and I met up in Athens the following day. It was a quick trip, barely 24 hours, but memorable because we got to stay in the first Air BnB we ever stayed at (this was where we stayed the weekend of the Great FB Hacking), and we got to go back to the great little winery we discovered there. Sadly, they did not offer up dinner that evening because they were switching over to their summer menu.

The next weekend we were planning on meeting somewhere in the middle but the mobster’s daughter had a friend graduating from high school. This girl is over at his house constantly and jokingly refers to him as her other dad. It was important to his daughter and to her friend that he be at her graduation so he paid for me to rent a car to drive all the way down to Virginia and then flew me back home.

I didn’t get in until 2 in the morning. We went to the graduation which took place at 9 am. After some pictures and a long walk back to the car we went out to eat. We headed home and I made the mistake of taking my contacts out and putting my jammies back on and then reclining in the chair for a “nap”. I woke up around 5 the next morning, so that day was a total waste. The mobster was really nice about it, though, and said I obviously needed the sleep.

On Sunday we had brunch at a winery up in the mountains. I had French toast on challah bread and he had what I should have had- shrimp and grits, along with a couple of mimosas. After breakfast we headed over to the winery (we were at the restaurant) to take a tour and then sample some of their wines. We ended up buying two bottles of their very excellent cherry wine, drinking most of one there and taking the other one home with us.

We had planned on spending the evening watching movies and eating pizza. Instead we got the pizza but headed over to his parents’ house to join his sister who had come in from out of town, and his brother. Around 10 pm we said our goodbyes and went to his brother’s house. He had wanted to show me his house for a while now and his brother and sister-in-law were looking forward to having us alone for a bit. It was probably midnight when we went back home. All in all, Saturday might have been a big fat dud, but we crammed a lot into Sunday.

Finally, on Monday all we managed to do was head to Charlotte, eat breakfast, and drop me off at the airport. Saying goodbye really stinks, but I loved flying home as opposed to driving!

One of the biggest things that happened was Rock Star turning 18 the first weekend in June, and then graduating later that week. A teammate from Utah flew out to be with her for both of those so we drove to Chicago to pick her up. More driving.

Thursday was graduation followed by dinner afterwards. Friday morning we once again drove to Chicago to catch a flight. We got home after 11 pm on Thursday and needed to be up between 4:30 and 4:45 the next morning. Then it was off to Utah and a whirlwind weekend, which I’ll write about more later.

As you probably guessed the mobster flew up for Rock Star’s graduation, and then onto Utah with us. Yesterday I flew back to Chicago and he flew back to Charlotte. The kids and I got home around 12:30 in the morning; I didn’t get to bed until about 1 and then I reported to work this morning bright and early at 7:30.

That’s been my May and June so far. How has yours been?

P.S. Yes, CF did show up for Rock Star’s graduation and yes, I will be writing more about that as well.

He Made Me Breakfast

I was debating between writing about the mobster or CF. How could there even be a contest? The mobster all the way!


We were fortunate enough to be able to get away and spend another weekend together. This time we took Columbus by storm. We had many great moments but one of the standouts had to have been Saturday morning when I got out of the shower and smelled breakfast. I was in the shower, folks; it was not me cooking! I went downstairs and there he was, frying eggs for breakfast sandwiches.

Twenty years and not once did CF ever make me breakfast. If he did make me breakfast it was so long ago I have forgotten it. The mobster was amazed. “He didn’t make you breakfast on Mother’s Day?” I had to laugh at that. No, most Mother’s Days were spent wrangling my kids and taking them with me to my mom’s while he stayed at home relaxing by himself.

What else did we do, you ask? We had pizza on Friday night. We went with Hawaiian because we both like it and our kids don’t. Saturday we stopped for coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts and then we walked around downtown. He thinks I should tell everyone the “funny” story about me having to pee in the corner of a parking garage because we couldn’t find a public restroom. I don’t. We decided to find little oddities in downtown Columbus. Our first find was the site of where the very first Wendy’s was built.  Next up? We decided to try to find the statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger at the convention center. We succeeded.


We saw hordes of people crossing the street and found out there had been a huge march going on. We asked one of the people what they were protesting (we were curious) and some snotty little 20 something replied, “We’re for women’s rights,” as though we must be the most stupid people on the planet. Screw you! Just for that I’m against women’s rights! Not really, but her delivery needs some work. There were quite a few interesting signs. We kind of lost our car which was parked at a meter. The mobster wanted to find a geocache but I told him I thought it was a little more important that we find the car. I remembered we were parked by a few banks so we pulled them up on Google in order to map out our route. Finally, as we walked back to the car we saw a sign about the Underground Railroad.


I loved the sign because it’s opening line was something along the lines of: The Underground Railroad was neither a railroad, nor underground. I am especially fond of that because when Rock Star was in middle school she turned to me one day after school and asked, “Did you know the Underground Railroad wasn’t underground, and it wasn’t an actual railroad?” I did, but apparently enough people are unfamiliar with it that they need to spell it out.

Saturday night we went to The Melting Pot. We couldn’t get reservations until 9:15, which I thought was terribly late. Yet we ended up not leaving the restaurant until after midnight! Talk about your leisurely dinner. Then we took a walk around the shopping center before heading back to our Air BnB.


Sunday we opted for something completely different. We went to church, followed by lunch at O’Charley’s, and then off to the art museum.


It certainly wasn’t your typical list of things to do but we had a good time. I got to see an actual Monet which was cool.


The museum closed at five so we planned on heading back home then. I drove him to his car and we decided to head back to Dunkin’ Donuts for another coffee. We ended up talking for another hour and a half!

So there you have it. Another lovely weekend for the books. I’ll write about good ol’ CF and BSC in another entry. Stay tuned!

Here are a few other fun pictures from the museum:


Life imitates art.

Probably the coolest thing I saw at the museum:

Same picture. The one on the left is what you see in front of you. The one on the right is what you see when you take a picture with your flash. Below is the explanation.


Finally, a picture of the mobster with the snowman he made me on his way to see me.


Trying to Make Sure Life Goes On

November 2015

Thanksgiving decorations are up.  Halloween decorations are down.  The kids and I carved pumpkins all on our own and I think they looked great.  Picasso went as Foxy and Rock Star and her friend went as tacky tourists.

Today is the docket hearing so we should have a date soon.  I gave my lawyer my list of requests along with a letter as to why I think he should take on all debt and all of his various pay stubs to show his income.  If Cousinfucker agrees to give me what I want on my list the judge can sign it and we don’t have to wait for a date.  Yippee!  However, I don’t think that’s the way it’s going to play out.  He’s had a pretty good run of it so far.  He gives me what he thinks he’s going to have to pay me and then I turn around and have to pay all the bills with that money.  He still lives at the house, however, and pays nothing towards the mortgage, utilities, car insurance, phones, or marital debt.  Then he takes all of his money and he runs with it.  I’m sure his white trash whore is loving it because he can spend big bucks on her.  I’m equally sure he has big plans for that bonus check he gets at the end of January.  So, when he finds out he has to pay a minimum of $2k more than he was thinking he was going to have to pay, he’s going to flip his lid!  And then to have to pay marital debt on top of that!  He is not going to be happy.

I’m doing ok for now.  Occasionally things will pop into my head and I’ll get down.  There are some days it seems like everything hurts.  I was watching Grey’s Anatomy with Rock Star today and just seeing the love story between Meredith and Derek was a stab in the heart.  Seems like everyone is paired up and in love.  I’m pretty convinced that is never going to happen for me again.  I think you’re either one of those people who continuously gets involved with someone immediately or you’re one of those who never recommits.  I am positive that’s going to be me despite all my positive thinking.

Watching tv is usually painful.  Mundane crap, like watching Mike and Frankie on The Middle.  Just regular bullshit stuff, and knowing that I’m not going to have that regular bullshit stuff.  I’m not going to celebrate either of my kid’s graduations with their father. With continued luck I won’t have to share my grandchildren with him and won’t have to see him at their birthday parties.

I celebrated 20 years with the worst mistake of my life and I know in my heart I won’t spend 20 years with anyone else, much less the love of my life.  I feel like my life is over.  Not over like I’m only a few years away from death, but over in the sense that I don’t have much time to get shit together.  A job?  Oh yeah, I’d love to work a minimum wage job with no benefits and then eat dog food once I can no longer work.  I don’t feel like I have enough time to turn things around and I’ll just be a big burden to everyone in my path.  Then I read about people who have left their cheating husbands at 50 and 60 and 70.  I don’t know if they always worked or not.  I’m sure that helps.  I also think that if Cousinfucker can find someone else then surely I can!  I mean, between the two of us I am definitely the better catch.  He makes more money but he’s got issues up the ass, not to mention no hair and bad teeth.  I’m still attractive, I guess.  So why am I the one who remains alone?  Because the world is fucking unfair!  That’s why!

Writing seems to be difficult these days.  I don’t know how on earth I think I’m going to manage to write a blog.  I can barely type out what I’ve been doing lately, much less type out something meaningful and profound.  Plus, I’ve got tons of screenshots I need to put in my Chump Lady journal.  Like, over 100.  I swear, sometimes I read something that one of the other people comments on and I’m like, “Do they know my husband?”  Sometimes it’s just that it’s such a relief to know that I’m not crazy and that his behavior is bad!  Things will pop out at me and I think, “A-ha!”


One Month Before D-Day

July 2015

My victories:

  1.   I stayed at the in-law’s house without my husband.  I am slowly healing that relationship.  I’ve even considered becoming FB friends with her.  Not quite ready to take that step but I’ve been mulling it.
  2. There is a song out there, not sure of the title.  I think it’s “I really really really like you” by Carly Rae Jepson (?).  When I first heard it it was a huge trigger!  That’s the justification Zack gave for continuing his relationship with Harley. Anyway, it’s quite catchy and the last few times I’ve heard it I’ve been singing along and bopping my head to it instead of allowing it to bring back bad memories.
  3. I’m not currently counting down any anti-verseries.  Not dwelling on what was going on at this time 2 years ago.  Trying not to get distracted with any of the holidays.  Also hoping that August 14th will come and go like any other ordinary day.  And I’m really hoping that I don’t have a meltdown on my anniversary this year.
  4. As previously stated I’ve deleted most of my infidelity blogs and I don’t tend to read them every day as I used to.
  5. I did go check out the whore last night and downloaded some new pictures that other people had posted.  But ordinarily I don’t go looking for her on FB and I haven’t been checking to see how she and my in-laws are interacting.
  6. I have no desire to check Zack’s phone or his email.  I figure that he’s smart enough to keep it hidden pretty well and as I said before I can’t control him.  If he’s determined to cheat he will.  If he really thinks she’s the love of his life, his soul mate, there’s nothing I can do about it if I haven’t convinced him otherwise after almost 2 years.
  7. So many of the things that pissed me off earlier this year make sense now and I can accept.  The whole concept of gratitude specifically.  I’ve been making an effort to try to look on the bright side of things and I can understand what the authors were trying to say before.  But like everything else with adultery (with anything really) you have to be ready to hear that message.
  8. I just feel at peace.  I’m not worried about Zack and Harley.  I’m not full of hate and anger.  There are certain people (his nephew and Jezebel) I’m still not too happy with but I don’t dwell on it.  I rarely think about them.  I have put it out of my mind.  Every now and then something will come up but I usually solve that by telling myself, “Nope.  You’re not going to think about that now.”

Present Day Sam Says:  Hey, Sam, guess what?  He’s cheating on you!  He’s fucking a whore and sending her money while he lies about it!  Keep spackling, sweetie!  I’m glad you’ve made such great progress; I think it’s swell that you are finally to the point where you are over what he did to you.  Unfortunately, it’s too late because he’s doing it all over again.  Sorry!

Snooping & Convincing Myself Everything Was Great


July 2015

I may as well begin a new entry since this topic is so much different from the last one.  I was re-reading some of the old blogs I used to read in the aftermath of the affair.  I’ve deleted most of them.  I try to stay neutral because not everyone takes the same path but for me I figured I had two choices:  I could stay or I could leave.  If I was going to stay then we needed to fix this marriage and I had to forgive him and eventually get beyond this affair because I had no desire to stay and be miserable.  Has it been difficult at times?  Yes! And not because of anything he’s done since D Day.  It’s been triggers that have set me off and sent me spiraling.  That’s been the difficult part.

I read somewhere that it usually takes 18-24 months to recover from a spouse’s affair.  I think that’s about right.  I didn’t have a long initial recovery.  Things seemed to get better rather quickly in fact.  But the triggers remained until a month or so ago. The need to snoop.  The fear that he was still involved with her. The anger. Feeling like I was ugly and hideous.  I experienced all of those things.  Devouring infidelity blogs.  Wanting information about her.  Hell, I still do sometimes but it has all lessened in the last month or so.  I’m just over it.  And sadly, no matter how much you tell a person not to do something it won’t happen until that person feels ready to accept it.  I do occasionally check up on the whore. I think I’ve already said that I probably always will. And I haven’t looked on Zack’s phone since April.  He told me today that he did put a passcode on it because corporate is demanding that they do so.  He had told me months ago that he was supposed to and that if he did it would be 7026.  He also volunteered to have my thumb print be on “file” so that I could get into it that way as well.

Anyway, one of the topics on the EA blog was snooping and various readers’ feelings about it.  I read a comment in the comments section and I thought it summed up my feelings on it quite clearly:  The word “snooping” would imply that I am looking at something I have no business looking at.  I have been married for 28 years and happily gave up a lucrative career 21 years ago to be a wife and stay at home mother.  My financial well-being is tied up in my marriage, as my degree is now a bit out of date.  I could not easily return to the work world at this point.  Of course, this is not to mention the emotional investment in the marriage.  I don’t know about you guys, but I protect my investments.  If my stockbroker began acting like a meth addict, I would investigate and look closely at the books. Perhaps this sounds a little cold, but here it is.  If my husband’s behavior leads me to believe he is lying to me, it is within my rights to check out my suspicions.

Of course, I love the one, probably from a cheating spouse who said:  Snooping is a complex issue.  On one hand it shows the CS that their BS isn’t really moving forward, just hiding their true feelings of hurt, and looking for reassurance that nothing is happening.  It also shows that the BS really doesn’t have any faith in the CS so the CS figures, “Well, I am being honest but it doesn’t matter.”  It is bad, bad, bad for everyone.

Really?  You’ve spent months, if not years, lying to your spouse and now that he or she knows the truth, checking up on you just proves that he or she isn’t really moving forward the way you, the cheater, feels he or she should?  It shows that the BS doesn’t have any faith in the CS and poor picked on little CS is so defeated and downtrodden because the person they betrayed isn’t automatically saying, “Oh, honey, I believe you 100%!  I would trust you with my life!  Why on earth would I ever think you were lying to me?”

I’m hoping there was more to that entry and the blog owners just used part of the quote to show an opposing side.  Because everything quoted, if that’s all there was, is just drivel!  Excuses, excuses, excuses!  You cheat on your spouse and you need to expect to not be trusted.  You need to be willing to be transparent.  You need to be willing to give access to your email and phone.  If you aren’t then your spouse is going to be wondering what it is that you are hiding.  Sorry.  That’s part of being a cheater.  You’ve cheated and lied and betrayed someone you professed to love.  You don’t rebuild overnight no matter how convenient that would be.

Am I Truly Happy? Part 2

I guess I didn’t realize some people were so two dimensional. I am very much a three dimensional kind of person. That question of, “How can you say you’re happy when you sound so bitter?” brings me back to the days of trying to have a baby.

We tried for four years before Rock Star was born. It took me nine months to get pregnant the first time and it ended in a miscarriage two weeks later. It took me another nine months the second time and that pregnancy ended only days later. After undergoing some very painful tests I managed to get pregnant 6 months later the third time; that pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy which took weeks to diagnose and find. Finally, after more than a year after the last loss, I got pregnant with Rock Star.  Meanwhile, my brother and all of his friends were having babies as teenagers. Not just as teenagers, but as people that weren’t even trying to have a baby. In every situation the parents to be were saying, “Oops! What now?” Everyone around me seemed to be having a baby.

In the beginning it was undeniably difficult. I was definitely jealous. Add on to that the fact that my niece was born the day after I miscarried the first time. I remember my brother asking me, “When are you going to come see her?” and me replying, “I just need more time.” It took me a month before I could see her.

I remember I met up with my SIL to be at a dress shop where she was shopping for a wedding dress. And I took that sweet little bundle of delicious baby out of the car seat and I fell in love. I hugged her and loved on her and never looked back. I took that child for weekends when she was younger. When she got stung by a jellyfish I took her in my arms and ran with her through the sand back to the townhouse so that the stings could be doused in ammonia. It was not a short run and as I’ve walked that path in the ensuing years I tell her, “I’m not sure how I did that.” I took her for Spring Break when her parents didn’t know how they were going to pay for child care during the time off from school. I flew her out to see me over the summer when I lived 1500 miles away. I drove 600 miles for a single weekend just to cheer her up when college decision making was overwhelming her. I love her beyond words and she loves me. I am one of her favorite people. It took me a month to be able to see her but ever since that day in the dress shop I have loved that child and I have been the best aunt I could be to her.

Eventually I got to the point where I wanted people, if they were to say anything about my circumstances, to say that I handled myself with grace. I didn’t want to be the jealous, bitter childless woman. I didn’t want to be the woman who couldn’t bear to look at babies or pregnant women, the woman who couldn’t attend a baby shower or child’s birthday party.  As more people I knew got pregnant, especially those who were not trying, I could be happy for them when they shared their news and yet still be sad for myself. I told others in the same situation that exact same thing. Being sad for yourself doesn’t mean you’re not happy for them. It just means they are pregnant and you are not. They’re having a baby, and you are not. It’s okay to feel sad about what you’re missing.

I also realized that other people getting pregnant didn’t lessen my chances. It was still difficult to take sometimes. I was sad for myself because I didn’t know if I would ever become a mom. That’s a hard fact to face when you want that. But the sadness I felt for myself didn’t take away the happiness I felt for others. Hell, to this day I feel a twinge of jealousy when I hear of people who have no problems getting pregnant, or people who have the number of children that I wanted. I am grateful for my two; I truly am. I wanted more, though, and I didn’t get to realize that dream.

That’s the answer to the first question. I can be happy and still be angry at everything my kids and I have been through. For those of you who have read for a while you know the hell I’ve been through, especially since June 10th. So when someone believes it’s impossible to be upset, or angry about what CF has done and still be happy at the same time I am amazed.

I think of my cousin who lost her oldest son in Afghanistan. In the beginning I think she was practically paralyzed by the grief. She mourns his loss every single day. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t have some happy times finally, 5 years later. She has two other children. She takes pride in them and their accomplishments. She spends time with them; she loves them. She’s gone to some fantastic places, done some fantastic things, and had some amazing times. And yet still, there is that loss. It will never go away.

Every holiday when her two kids are gathered around at her house she is going to notice the gaping absence of their brother. When her two other kids get married they will all be missing him and knowing that he should have been there. When she becomes a grandmother for the first time she is going to be reminded of the loss. Every time his birthday rolls around… every time the date of his death passes by… every time a milestone in life is celebrated and he’s not there to celebrate with them… it hurts her and she mourns. Obviously losing your child is not the same as your spouse cheating on you and yet…

Six months ago I was crying every day. I was begging God to end my life; I prayed for an aneurysm or heart attack on a daily basis. Hell, I thought I was making progress when I begged for a terminal illness instead of instant death. Granted, I was going to use that time to create havoc on CF and Harley with no fear of penalty, but still… it was a slight step up.

I had no joy in my life. It consisted of working and sleeping and running my kids around. That was it. I got up at 3:20 in the morning 5 days out of 7, went to work from 4-7 and then turned around, came home, took Rock Star to school, came back home, and then got ready for my second job. I worked 6 days a week most weeks. By the time I quit I was regularly working 7 days a week.

Now? Well, I don’t cry every day. I’m no longer begging for death. I actually have things I look forward to. I’m no longer working two jobs and getting up at 3:20 am most mornings. I have weekends off. I’m doing my best to cultivate relationships. I’ve joined a group at work. I have more work friends. I’ve been on a couple of wine walks around town. I can occasionally feel hopeful about living back in my hometown and all that it has to offer.

I would consider that happiness.

My kids seem to be doing okay and that makes me happy, although there are slight bumps. Picasso is transitioning into high school so I worry about him more. His group of friends don’t go to the same high school and I worry that he has no friends. His cousin attends the same school and they have a class together and eat lunch together. He seems content but you never know. He just spent the weekend at an anime convention so I suppose all is not lost. As I said to him as I drove him to the convention, “Oh, you love anime. You’ll really enjoy this convention.” His reply to me? “Yes, Mom, that’s why I’m going.”

Rock Star at times seems to be over the moon happy and at other times seems to hate her life. I realize most seniors reach that point where they’re “done” with high school but the school year has just started! She has already told me senior year is nothing special for her; she doesn’t know these kids all that well. It’s not like she’s spent four years at this school. I’m sure she would be enjoying her senior year a lot more if she were at her old school, the one where she started her high school years. Not some strange school she was forced to attend after being uprooted. I know there has been talk that she shouldn’t have been made a captain since she hadn’t been here as long as the other girls. I know it upsets her and frustrates her. Them’s the breaks when your dad is a selfish asshole who only thinks of himself. Then again, she has her days when she says she’s basically the main captain and the cheer coach listens to her and seeks out her opinion. She goes back and forth on being happy and being miserable. I know that shortly after school started she had a mini breakdown, bawling that she was so tired and she missed me.

I thought maybe she was upset that I had seen the mobster, or that I wasn’t spending enough time with her because I was focused on him, but that wasn’t it. She just plain misses having me around. She said I was never here because I was always at work but that she was never around either because she was either at practice or work. I couldn’t do much more than hold her and stroke her hair, telling her I loved her. We spent some quality hours together this past weekend so hopefully she understands she can always ask for more time.

She’s also been asking to be put on anxiety meds because she says her anxiety is out of control. The doctor is reluctant to do so and is recommending she see a counselor which she refuses to do. Looks like we’re at a stalemate.

Overall, I think they’re both doing okay. They appear to have adjusted to this new, down-sized life. The life where we have about 90% less money, we don’t have a home of our own, and their mother is never around to do mother type things. Because I’m working to earn that 90% less paycheck.

Am I happy my kids seem to be doing okay? Absolutely. It sure as hell beats the months I spent listening to Rock Star cry. She cried over not getting her license on time. She felt defeated because she was once “somebody” and now she was “nobody”. She had few, if any friends, in the beginning. It was heartbreaking seeing my once vibrant daughter who had been “it” at her former school reduced to feeling as though she was a nameless, faceless, nobody in a sea of new students. Yes, my heart did sing when the tide began to turn.

I’m happy I have a job. It doesn’t pay for shit but it covers the bills I have. Unfortunately, that’s about all it does. It beats not having a job and watching every penny you have slowly circle the drain. I’m not yet at that point where I can confidently say that this will lead to great things and a stellar career. I may have to switch companies before I finally make a decent living. But for right now I’m thankful I have a job even if it only pays $11/hour. I’m thankful somebody was willing to hire me and that I am gaining work experience (again).

I’m thankful I have a place to live. I realize that there are countless people out there going through the same thing that either have parents that won’t or can’t let them move in with them, or simply don’t have parents anymore. I also realize my kids and I would be homeless if not for my mom. Seriously. I. Do Not. Make. Enough. to afford even a shitty apartment somewhere. Ironically, I have approximately $555 left over for the month after I’ve paid my bills. That does not include rent, utilities, or food. Or luxury items like toilet paper, saline solution, tampons, pads, dog food, shampoo, or laundry detergent.

With all that said it is still humiliating to be 48 years old with a college education and not be able to provide for your kids.

Is it really that difficult to imagine how I could be beyond grateful to have a place to call home while at the same time feeling ashamed that I can’t even afford an apartment for the 3 of us?  Their father can afford it but I can’t. In fact, as many of you know by now, their father can afford to move his whore cousin and her 4 kids into a lovely, 2800 sq. ft. brick home that looks remarkably like the home he forced us out of.

He can also afford to put his kids and me on his damn insurance but he doesn’t. Instead, the kids and I are on Medicaid. I would pay $370/month for insurance for the three of us through my employer and then I would have a $2600 deductible for each of us. I barely make enough money to pay the damn bills. How in the hell am I going to manage to cough up another $370 for the insurance and then $100 or so to put aside in an HSA for the time when someone needs to go to the doctor? Oh, that’s right. I do have $555 left over at the end of the month so let’s go ahead and eat through all of that extremely generous amount of money.

He can afford to pay child and spousal support but he doesn’t. Instead his kids get free lunches and textbooks through the schools because we’re considered poor.

Is that bitter? Is it angry? Who the hell cares? It’s a fact! Just like it’s a fact that he’s able to afford all of this because I supported his career ambitions for 20 years. I moved all around the country so he could move up. Of course sometimes we moved because he didn’t like his boss or he didn’t like his pay raise. And now he thinks he should be allowed to discard me and his kids, and his lifestyle should remain the same.

I can be pretty damn happy with my life and still be pissed off at CF’s continued financial rape. The truth of the matter is I haven’t yet managed Chump Lady’s goal of gaining a new life. Oh, I suppose I have; it’s just a really shitty new life. I still struggle with being poor. I still struggle with not being able to provide for my kids on my own. I still struggle with the humiliation of using Medicaid and freebies when 2+ years ago I had no financial concerns. Two plus years ago I was the one checking the box that said I would be willing to send in extra money for a child that couldn’t afford a class field trip; today my kid is the one needing the free field trip. I still struggle with this idea that I will move up or find a new, wonderful job that will pay me well. I still struggle with feeling optimistic because every time I’ve ever let myself feel optimistic it has punched me in the face. I still struggle with this idea that he will get away with everything he has done. I’m steeling myself for that on court day. Despite all of that I am happy. I have done my best to try to find the good in all of this. Again, I’m no longer crying every day or begging for death. Things have definitely gotten better.

That brings me to the next question: Will I be okay if he gets away with it all? Will I be okay if my new life with the mobster means living on maybe $60k a year between the two of us? And that is a question I will answer in Part 3.

Am I Truly Happy?

In the past week or so I’ve been asked if I’m truly happy. Apparently it isn’t believable that I could be happy with the recent developments in my life and still be so “angry” and “bitter” over CF and his treatment of me and our kids. I believe I was accused of talking out of both sides of my mouth actually. I’ve also been asked if I can be happy regardless of the outcome of my divorce. That was a question posed by the mobster one day, and one that I have mulled over at length.

Let’s tackle the first question. Am I truly happy? Or more to the point, how can I say I’m happy when I still rail against the injustice of infidelity and divorce? How can I say I’m happy when I have no desire to be friends with Cousinfucker, and still have copious amounts of anger towards him and the whore?

I believe I already attempted this explanation back in November. My divorce is not final. I don’t have a settlement. What he originally offered me was a joke. He continues to do shit, and a lot of that shit is not something I can easily ignore. Like, say, stopping payment on his support checks. Or…. not paying his court ordered support.

Believe me, I would love to be in a position where his support check was simply a bonus. At this point in time, however, I am not. I am a 48 year old woman re-entering the workforce after a more than 15 year absence. I make $11/hour and I have two kids that are used to living a fairly affluent life. After I pay my current bills I don’t have enough money to rent an apartment, pay utilities, and buy food and necessities, much less have anything left over for fun or for my kids. It’s going to be a long time before I’m truly able to stand on my own and not need his support check.

I’ve said before that he has simply shed his old life for a new one. And that is hard to take some days. After his first affair with Harley (the emotional one) I told him if he ever did this to me again I would make what happened to Jezebel’s Husband #2 seem like a walk in the park. In my old FB entries I referenced taking everything and destroying what I couldn’t take. The truth is he is losing nothing. Nothing that he cares about anyway. And I can’t do anything to him.

Sure, his kids don’t talk to him but he doesn’t really care. It’s good for a pity party soundbite, to act like he misses them and loves them, but the reality is he doesn’t give a shit. He’s got four new kids and they will fawn all over him and act like all his big gifts mean the world to them. Let’s face it- their lives have dramatically improved. They’ve been moved into a home that is nicer than anything they’ve ever lived in. Their mom’s income has doubled by partnering up with my husband, and in turn, their lifestyle has dramatically increased. He goes to their cheerleading competitions and show and tell. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s coaching one of their sports teams. He’s much more involved with them than he ever was with our kids.

Me and my kids? Well, we went from living in a 4000 sq. ft. home with a pool, hot tub, game room, separate bathrooms for all, and nice huge bedrooms into living in my mom’s 1500 sq. ft. home. We live with my mom! He lives with his whore. And our income/lifestyle has decreased by 90% or more. 90%, folks. Think about that for a minute. Imagine losing 90% of everything you have and then get back to me and tell me how happy you are. Tell me you have a smile on your face every fucking day and that you never think about everything that you’ve lost. I will, in turn, tell you that you are a liar.

It is an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I told him I would wreck havoc upon his life if he ever cheated on me again and I haven’t. I can’t. There is nothing I can do to hurt him and to wreck his life the way he wrecked mine, and by extension, our kids. He is getting away with everything and doing beautifully in his new life.

The mobster likes to point out I won’t walk away with nothing. He’s going to have to give me half of his 401k and pension. I know he’s not eager to hand over any money but the reality is he’ll be able to easily make up for that money he’s had to pay out. He can replace it in about 5 years. I will never be able to replace what I’m losing financially.

He will have to pay child support. He may end up paying spousal support. There is a really good possibility that the amount of support he has to pay out, regardless of how much it may piss him off, still won’t bring my lifestyle anywhere close to his. Combined and accounting for child support I think they live on about $12k a month. If he has to pay me $2000/month for both child and spousal support he’s still living on what we used to and I’m living on a third- and that’s only while he’s paying child support for both kids.

So I do my best to not think about those things. I absolutely do my best to try not to think about the lavish lifestyle he’s living and the fact that his income has actually gone up. I do my best to concentrate on the things that are going well in my life and to not dwell on the fact that his life is not falling apart. I try my best to think about the positives. I do my best to concentrate on me and making my life good and I try like hell not to think about everything that cousinfucking piece of shit is getting away with.

You know what? Some days I fail. Some days I rage against the injustice. Some days I find it hard to have faith in myself and believe that I will one day rise out of all of this bullshit and be successful on my own. Some days I find it difficult to believe that I will ever be in a position where I can not only pay my bills but also move out into my own place and still have enough money to help my kids out and go on vacations and go out to dinner and the movies and to buy gifts. There are many days when it is difficult to believe that this, this right here and now, is not how it’s always going to be. I have a really tough time looking into the future and believing that things are going to be so much better.

Does that mean I’m angry and bitter? No, it means I’m trying to be happy with the little that I have. It means that sometimes I get these little surges of hope that I will be able to do great things and lead a great life, one that is even greater than if I remained married to Cousinfucker.

Trying Hard To Spackle Back In 2015

April 2015

Lots of entries lately.  🙂  I do know that this time marks the 2nd year anniversary, or anti-versary of Zack and Harley beginning their relationship.  Honestly, I don’t think about it much.  I’ll suddenly realize what time of the year it is and I’ll say, “Oh, yeah,” and then I go about my day.  No dwelling on it. I don’t remember if I mentioned it before or not but I’ve deleted several of the blogs I used to read about cheaters.  I’ve still got the emotional affair website bookmarked, and the ones by Kelly, Pablo’s Wife, Shawn, Elle, Shattered, Not Hate, Essie and Katie.  I like Elle’s blog because she’s recovered but still keeps her blog and she gives very good, rational advice.  It’s not all angry vitriol. I like Doug and Linda’s emotional affair website for the same reason, plus it’s so hard to find anything dealing with only emotional affairs.  I find Essie’s blog fascinating.  She was very young when she divorced but I think she will have a fabulous ending.  I loved Shawn’s story into CrazyTown, kinda wish I had her moxie, although she tells people constantly, “Don’t do what I did! Stay away from the OW!” She doesn’t write much anymore.  I think she wrote to tell her story and now that it’s told she doesn’t blog anymore.

I would also like to point out that I don’t read all of these blogs every day religiously like I used to.  True, a lot of that is due to the fact that many of them don’t post daily like they did at one time.  But I find myself not even clicking on the bookmark every day.

I still do a lot of wrestling with the fact that Harley is still in my life.  No matter how much I may say she’s not the fact of the matter is that she is still there.  She has a window into my life.  Any time my in-laws post about my kids or my husband, she can see that.  Any time Tammy Faye tells a relative something about Zack or my kids that relative can innocently pass it along to Harley. Oh wow, look at that!  Zack doesn’t have to tell his whore he’s moving to another state, 6 hours away from her.  Someone else will do it!  Zack doesn’t have to tell his whore he’s in the hospital; his mother will let her know.  I know that Tammy Faye thinks she knows what I’m going through because of Pastor Fake’s affair, but she doesn’t.  That OW didn’t stay in the picture.  Harley has.  Every single person that Zack is close to is friends with her and fawns all over the whore. I am certain that if my kids were with their grandparents and they ran into the whore they would introduce my kids to her without a second thought.  Not only would they introduce them to their father’s mistress, they would try to put her in the best possible light  I guess it’s very important that my kids think Daddy’s mistress is the coolest, bestest person out there.  I suppose that gives them an excuse as to why he would cheat.  She’s cool and fantastic and we just love her; we can understand why our dad loved her, too, and tossed our mom aside for her. I will slit my wrists before I allow that to happen.

Oh, I know!  There is a need to focus on your relationship and not the OW.  I’ve got that down, Sparky.  I do understand that.  I get the whole:  Living well and being happy is the best revenge shit.  I do.  And for the most part I try to concentrate on that.  It can be difficult when Zack is all over the place with his emotions but I do try.

There is a lot out there on that.  Shawn says, “Stay away!  Focus on your relationship.  She will never lead to happiness!”  And I believe her.  Elle cautions that concentrating on the OW gets you nowhere.  Many people point out that the OW doesn’t give a shit about you (the betrayed spouse).  That’s true.  Harley doesn’t give a shit about me or my kids or what she did to me.  She doesn’t care about the pain she caused.  She doesn’t care about any of the feelings of inadequacy or uncertainty.  She had her own agenda and that was to marry my husband and go off and live her little fairytale life with him that she couldn’t achieve with her own husband.  She didn’t care at all about the fact he already had a wife and 2 kids. She was prepared to see us as collateral damage.  The only thing that mattered to her was what she wanted. Hell, she doesn’t even have enough common decency to stay the fuck away from Zack’s family. Why would I ever give her the benefit of the doubt and think she understands the damage and pain she has caused? These women don’t care about who they hurt.  You’ll never get them to understand the damage they’ve done until they are on the receiving end of it.  And some, like the OW in Ashlee’s case, don’t care even then.  Her husband cheated on her and then she in turn cheated on him with Ashlee’s husband, which resulted in his death, leaving behind a young widow and a 5 young children.  That bitch does not care about the damage she created.  And the bitch in my situation doesn’t care either.  As I’ve said many times if he had left me she would be planning her wedding and running down the aisle to say, “I do!”  Hell, it’s been almost 2 years now so if he had left when I gave him an ultimatum they would probably be married by now.  I don’t think she would have been willing to wait.  I’m thinking a justice of the peace wedding would not have been out of the question, just so she could legally claim him and he couldn’t up and leave once he fully realized what a bonehead move he had made.  Of course, the joke would have been on her because shortly after marrying him she would have found him slipping deeper and deeper into a depression because his kids wanted nothing to do with him.  She could deal with all of this PTSD shit and all of his anxiety.  Joke’s on you, bitch!  You get romantic Zack in the beginning when he’s wooing you.  You get real Zack after the wedding!  Have fun! And lest someone hack into my computer and rush to tell Zack I’m saying bad things about him:  I do love him.  I’ve stayed throughout all this bullshit and done my best to help him.  But I don’t think Harley was prepared for any of that.  She would have just ditched her husband of 16 years for my husband.  Disappointed her kids.  Possibly have uprooted them to move wherever Zack might end up.  I do not believe that dealing with a husband who is sobbing and drunk all the time because he’s destroyed his relationship with his kids would have been what she was looking forward to.  Not at all.  She’s envisioning luxury vacations, and candlelight dinners, picking out their dream house, hot sex, and a fairytale romance.  Not depression, crying, anxiety, drinking, not being able to function, not wanting to leave the house.  No, that’s not what he was selling her.

Anyway, I’m doing my best.  I’m coming along.  I try not to focus on her.  Barely look at her FB page for new profile pictures anymore.  I can’t see anything on her page because it’s locked down, and she’s kept the same profile picture of her kid up since the beginning of February. I still find it fascinating that while she was fucking around with my husband she was changing her profile picture every 2 weeks or so, and now it’s rare plus it’s not usually of her. I suppose she could hang out on Instagram more now and I can’t track that.  Too bad!  Or maybe, a blessing in disguise.  See?  I’m evolving.

I also don’t track my in-laws’ page that often either.  I try not to because it’s just upsetting to see that fake bitch liking everything and acting like she’s some huge part of their life. I know she’s there.  It’s her way of always being connected to Zack. It pisses me off and it remains something I need to let go of. It’s difficult because I’m a dweller.  I figured that would be easier to say than a not-let-it-goer. I want justice.  I want her to lose something.  Because really, what did she lose? If she and her husband are indeed divorced it wasn’t because he dumped her; it would have been because she moved on with someone else.  So, she didn’t lose her husband.  She didn’t lose her kids, even though her daughter knew what she had done and wasn’t happy about it.  She didn’t lose her in-laws.  She didn’t have to wonder what was wrong with her that would make her husband cheat on her.  She didn’t have to wonder if her in-laws would really prefer that her husband be with his mistress (because, you know, he didn’t cheat on her therefore he didn’t have a mistress that his family could prefer).  She didn’t have to deal with feelings of betrayal and humiliation.  She doesn’t have to wonder if her husband is still fooling around with his whore because he never was.  She doesn’t have to wonder if her husband is ever going to do it again, because he was always faithful.  Her relationship with her in-laws is intact, I’m guessing.  I don’t know for certain that The Saint didn’t tell anyone in his family but my guess is he didn’t. She doesn’t have to deal with her husband’s whore always being around and her being expected to suck it up and smile.  Her life has gone on as always, unless, of course, she’s divorced him and gotten involved with someone else.  Oh, wait, the correct order would be: unless she got involved with someone else and then divorced her husband.  That’s the Harley move.

I suppose you could say I haven’t lost that much.  At least that is the way it would look to an outside observer.  I got a new, bigger house.  I got a new car.  I’m getting a pool.  I still have my husband.  That probably should be listed first.  OK, do over.  I still have my husband and he appears to be crazy about me.  I have a new, bigger house.  I have a new car.  I’m getting a pool.  My lifestyle has not changed; if anything, it has improved. But underneath, where you can’t see… I deal with the humiliation of my husband’s betrayal, knowing that so many people know what he did to me and yet I still stayed and tried to work it out. I deal with the questions of what he saw in her, what did I lack, what did I do wrong?  And knowing the answers to those questions doesn’t necessarily help.  He saw attention and flattery from her.  Attention he wasn’t getting at home.  We didn’t communicate much.  We weren’t a team.  We didn’t function as a married couple; we lived more as roommates.  He was unhappy with the infrequency of sex.  Still doesn’t excuse him. But it helps us to rebuild. I deal with the fact that I’ve been moved 2000 miles across the country, far from my friends and everything I was involved in, because of their plan to move us closer so they in turn could meet up and fuck each other. I deal with the fact that my in-laws think my husband’s whore is simply wonderful and I’m not sure our relationship will ever be put back together like it was.  Oh, and that’s only referring to his mom.  His sister is pretty much dead to me. I’m going to chalk that up to a 50/50 split as far as where fault lies- her or Harley.  I mean, if Harley hadn’t been willing to open her legs for my husband then there would have been no affair.  But Jezebel was eating it all up and encouraging him to leave me. And then tries to place all the blame on me- I’ve reached out and Sam just won’t let me in.  I’m done!  She completely discounts all of her lying and her disparaging comments about me, like how I blow money.

You know, I guess if I’m being completely honest (and I do try to be) what I really want is for everyone who is close to my husband and supposedly loves me and wants our marriage to be stronger than ever, to cut ties with her.  To let her know that they know what she did and that it’s not ok.  That they have MY back, not hers.  Is that such a horrible thing to want? And I know that I can only control myself.  I cannot control them and they have made it abundantly clear that they want a relationship with the little whore.  So, I trudge on.

Present Day Sam Says: So much of what I wrote could still apply today.

The best revenge is living well. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Real easy to say. Not always so easy to do. Especially when you’re faced with living in poverty for the rest of your life. Or, at the very least living an extremely downsized lifestyle for the rest of your life.

Don’t focus on the other woman because she doesn’t give a shit about what she’s done to you. That’s certainly true. Harley the Whore gives absolutely zero fucks about the lives she’s ruined. She doesn’t care what this has done to my kids. She doesn’t care what it’s done to me.

Wishing his family would have my back instead of the whore’s? Well, we all know that if I wish in one hand and shit in the other which one will fill up faster, don’t we? That was all a pipe dream that was never going to work out in my favor.

So much great advice and yet I’m not really feeling any of it.

Watching Someone Else’s Shit Show

Three channels. That’s all they’ve got, according to Chump Lady. Charm, rage and self pity.

I’ve only seen rage and self pity from my shit eating chimp. My mobster gets to see all three from his lovely delusional STBX.

I wrote once upon a time that maybe I got lucky with CF basically vanishing from our lives. Watching my mobster go through the things he’s had to endure makes me at least somewhat thankful for my situation. I don’t have to worry about running into CF or Harley. That’s a constant worry for him. It’s a small town to begin with. They’re everywhere. She still attends events for the kids and often brings her man whore with her. I, on the other hand, never see CF and Harley.

I don’t have to watch my kids go off with him (or him and her) and wonder if they’ll forget about everything I’ve gone through to keep things stable for them, or if they’ll begin to accept the whore.

A mere two days after we began talking Mobster’s son graduated from high school. This meant he would end up seeing the STBX, especially because her relatives were staying with him.

Fortunately, she left her AP at home so Mobster didn’t have to deal with that. But at the end of the festivities she asked him if she could have a hug.

Are you taking notes? This person who has been lying, cheating, and gas lighting, who walked out on her husband and kids to go live with another man, is actually asking the person she has cruelly betrayed to comfort her. Can you believe this shit?

That’s what they do. They destroy everything. They do whatever the hell they want. Then when consequences hit they are suddenly the poor innocent victim in need of comfort and understanding.

Can I have a hug? I just want to make sure I can keep you on the hook. I’ll throw a few kibbles your way and let you think if you wait long enough you might still have a shot with me.

Can I have a hug? I’m suddenly realizing everything I’ve given up. And Mr. Perfect isn’t quite as perfect and wonderful as I thought. So maybe you could hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay and you still love me and want me no matter how badly I’ve treated you.

I told him from the very beginning that once she realized there was someone else that she would be back. It’s all part of what Chump Lady calls “hoovering”. They hoover around trying to suck you back in. He disagreed, saying she was happy with this new guy; he was everything she said she wanted. And she definitely didn’t want him back.

I then patiently explained to him that neither of his two points had anything to do with her coming back around.

You are her Plan B, her backup. You have never left her up until this point, even after everything she has done. You didn’t leave her this time because of the affair. You asked her to quit drinking. She fully expects you to be there when and if this new romance fails.

I’d go so far as to say she expects him to be pining for her even if this new relationship lasts forever. She considers him hers. No matter what.

That’s who they are. It’s what they do. They are selfish and think only of themselves. We are inconsequential to them. You hear about it. You read the wise words of those who have already traveled this path. But you don’t always fully believe it until you’ve experienced it. It’s fascinating.

Can I just tell everyone now that I am a freaking prophet? That, or I read a lot of Chump Lady. Because his STBX is hoovering hard. And she is flipping through all three channels like crazy. And again I find it fascinating because it is so completely textbook.

Shortly after discovering I existed she suddenly got a wild hair up her ass and decided she needed to get more of her belongings from the house. She had to go through their youngest, or maybe she chose to do so; either way she was highly irate that he had, up until that point, refused to have contact with her.

Oh, here it comes! Here comes the rage: You need to be a real man and talk to me.

Translation: How dare you cut off my supply? Why are you ignoring me? You want me! You can’t live without me! So start acting like it. Know your place and fall into line or I shall have to insult your manliness. You’re being a big meanie for ignoring me. You’re being a child! Grow up and grovel before me like a real man!

When rage doesn’t work she decides to flip the switch over to self pity. She tells him she tried to kill herself.

Translation: Don’t you want to worry about me and tell me not to do such things? Don’t you feel sorry for me? Ride in on your white horse and rescue me! Show me you care, dammit!

But wait! There’s more! She’s also able to turn on the charm. She told him he was the best she had ever had. And, when asked point blank what it was she wanted, did she want to still be his wife, her response was to assure him she would move back home in a heartbeat but the kids wouldn’t allow that.

Bravo!  I like what you’ve done there. Stroke his ego. Make him feel like he’s special and like he’s got something no one else ever will. Then keep his hopes alive by letting him think you’d dump your married lover and come back to him in a second if only the children you gave birth to would only accept you and let you live in the home they don’t pay for. Those damn kids!

Actually, I think my favorite part was when she coyly told him, “We can’t do this!”


Oh, kibbles, kibbles! How delightful.

He shut that down quickly by telling her he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about and he was never having sex with her again.

And just to make sure she followed the textbook to a T she managed to pull out the ol’ “I want to be friends,” card. Again, stunning work. It’s not original at all but the copy was truly outstanding.

Yes, let’s be friends. I can’t imagine why anyone who has been lied to and betrayed wouldn’t want to be “friends” with the person who lied, cheated, backstabbed, gaslighted, and betrayed them. You don’t want to be friends with someone like that? That’s crazy talk!

Apparently in his quest for closure they met for coffee the next day. I guess that’s when he told her he was moving on and he had every intention of getting remarried someday. He wasn’t going to let her be his final chapter. She must have been on the charm channel, fully believing that his invitation to have coffee must be code for, “I want you back!”, because he said the tone of the conversation changed once he told her about his feelings for me and how he was going to marry me someday even though I thought he was crazy.

Then she told him she would call him at lunch. You’ve gotta admire her persistence. She cannot believe he would ever be done with her, can she? He told her not to bother because I would be calling and we always talk at lunch.

That pissed her right off; here comes the rage again. “Fine! Go have fun with your girlfriend!”

Thankfully he was able to see the absurdity in the situation as well.

As he said, so she’s pissed off that he’s seeing someone after she moved out of their house, left him and their kids, and moved in with her fuck buddy?

Yes, Mobster, that about sums it up. As I’ve told you you are her backup plan. You are supposed to sit around and wait for her. You are supposed to be at her beck and call. You are supposed to remain faithful to her until your dying day.

Now she’s back to texting and calling. He has her blocked on texting but not on phone calls so if she calls, her text messages show up as archived.

She called 11 times one evening and then turned around and called 14 times the next morning. And I’m not talking about “call once, wait 20 minutes, call again.” I’m talking about the “call him, hit redial immediately, hit redial immediately, hit redial immediately” 14 freaking times, kind of calling. I know this because we were video chatting when she began calling. He ended up shutting his phone off once we finished talking.

That’s some hard core hoovering! It screams, “Don’t ignore me!”

That doesn’t even touch on when she called him asking for help filling out her W-2s and then began crying because she was lonely. Doesn’t she have a boyfriend for that shit? Oh wait, there it is once again. Rage and charm have not produced the desired effect so maybe a little more self pity will suck him back in again. Why ask your live-in boyfriend for help and pass over a perfectly good chance to fuck with your STBX’s head?

To a cheater it’s perfectly rational thinking. They should never experience consequences because they’ve done nothing wrong. So when you leave your spouse for someone else and it’s not the perfect paradise you imagined OR you just can’t resist the idea of two people fighting for you, of course you throw a few bread crumbs your spouse’s way. Of course you expect them to offer you a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic hug or two, maybe even an invitation to jump into bed again for old time’s sake. Hey, I told you you were the best I ever had! You expect them to be there waiting if things go south or you decide the new flavor of the month isn’t quite as sparkly as you first thought.

As I said, when she calls the text messages show up as archived messages. Once again she’s flipping through those three channels, trying to find a little crevice she can wedge herself into.

Rage:  I thought you were an adult and could talk but I guess not.

Of course an adult would subject himself to your constant mind fucking!

Self pity: I’m having a seizure. Help!

Really? You’re suffering a medical emergency and your first thought isn’t to call 9-1-1 or the man you’re living with, but to text the man you lied to and cheated on and who is divorcing you? That’s some bat shit craziness you’ve got going on.

Charm: Mobster Lobster StarfishMan (or any other nickname she used)…

See? See how cute and charming I can be? Don’t you remember all the good times we had? Forget about the men I fucked and concentrate on the cute nicknames I used for you!

Self pity: Why won’t you talk to me? Please talk to me. I wish you would talk to me.

Why are you being so mean to me? Don’t you want to hop back on that pick me roller coaster? I’m insinuating you might still have a chance with me. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity.

Charm: Can we meet up and talk over coffee?

You might get lucky. <wink wink>

And my personal favorite… Rage: 25 years of love and friendship and my crap, no response from my best friend.

Yes, 25 years of love and friendship have been decimated because he won’t entertain your attempts to suck him back into the abyss of crazy and text with you or meet up with you. The fact that you cheated on him and in fact walked out on him and your kids plays absolutely no part in your marriage ending. You certainly weren’t throwing away 25 years when you moved in with another man. You fully expected him to wait around forever, quietly yearning for you while you flitted about and did whatever you pleased.

And the part about him being your best friend? O.M.G! If that’s the way you treat your best friend I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies. He’s no longer your best friend. Your new boyfriend should probably take over that role. I have a feeling he would be none too pleased to see those text messages where you’re begging your STBX not to ignore you and declaring him your best friend. I can tell you right now if I ever caught wind of Mobster declaring you to be his best friend I would be outta here so fast it wouldn’t even be funny.

It really is an amazing process to watch as it plays out. For his part he has handled it beautifully. He told me the other day he finally read all the texts and he felt nothing. He was simply done with her.

It would be very easy to get worried about this. They had 25 years together. We’ve had a couple months. Her walking out and him filing for divorce are relatively fresh. And she’s hoovering hard! I would imagine that might be hard to resist after so many years together and all that hurt. It must feel good to know that the person who discarded you now wants you back.

But here’s the thing. If he does choose to go back and ends things with us, I’ll survive. He’s wonderful. I want to spend every minute of every day with him. I will be devastated and I will cry and I will be broken hearted for quite some time. But I’ll survive; I’ve lived through worse.

Here’s another thing. She may have 25 years with him but a lot of those years were miserable, filled with lies and gas lighting and cheating and out of control drinking. He looks back now and tells me she was never happy, never content. As he likes to say, “She could win the lottery and then bitch that they gave her too many tens.” Wow! Sounds like someone I was married to!

She’s got rage, charm, and self-pity. Those are her only three channels now. Me? I’ve got nothing but laughter, good times, and dreams of the future with him. I’ve also got honesty, integrity and faithfulness.

So I’m going to sit back and watch this shit show, offering support and encouragement when I can. I might even say a prayer of thanks that CF figured out quite early that I wasn’t going to play. I realize he had already decided to discard me but he did want to keep things civil. Thankfully he didn’t care enough and/or was full enough on the ego kibbles Harley was throwing his way that he didn’t need to bother with me.

Watching her flip through those channels, trying so desperately to suck him back into the mind games is fascinating once you realize what’s really going on. I’m almost positive he gets it, too. He is offended that she would think he would wait around for her. I guess that means when he is faced with choosing rage, charm and self pity, or laughter, honesty, integrity, and faithfulness it will be a pretty easy choice.