Two Sides To Every Story Revisited

I was re-reading one of my very first blog posts. It talked about this idea that there are always two sides to everyone’s story and you shouldn’t judge, blah, blah, blah. You know the rest.

My thesis in that post was: No, there are truths and there are lies. If my story is Jerry Lee cheated on me and abandoned his kids then either that’s true or it’s a lie. In order for there to be two sides Jerry Lee would have to say, “No, I didn’t do those things. Sam thinks I did but we were already separated when I started sleeping with Harley. And furthermore, I didn’t abandon my kids. She poisoned them against me.”

Looking back though I realized I missed the real intent behind that bullshit. I’ve come to the conclusion that when people say, “There are always two sides to every story,” what they really mean is… “Maybe he or she had a really good reason for cheating on you.”

Darkest of Days

April 2015

What’s that they say about the path to Hell being paved with good intentions?  I had better because life is falling to shit in a hurry.  There is so much to catch up on I don’t even know if I’ll be able to do it justice.

Where to start?  OK, I read his text messages to Blockhead who is now in town specifically to visit Zack.  Zack had told him he was having a really bad night and just wanted to end it, on Friday I believe, so here he is.  In the flesh.  But I digress.  Read his text message.  Blockhead had asked where I was.  He said that I was here but I was downstairs, that I just left him alone crying all day, that I didn’t care and he couldn’t blame me because it made him less of a man to see him crying all the time.  Told him I only stayed because of the money, he believed.  To his credit he didn’t tell Blockhead that I hated him (Zack).  I guess he saves that for Jezebel. I’m not sure what else was said because I stopped reading.  I was fuming.  Or that could have been Saturday night.  It probably was.

Saturday turned out to be an awful day.  He was sad to begin with because he said I don’t like it here.  He was offering to sell the house and go back to our former state. I’m probably too practical because instead of saying, “Oh, baby, I love it here!  What are you talking about?”  I just told him I was doing my best, I had a new outlook here, and that going back wasn’t a possibility.  Even told him that we couldn’t get our old house back and we’d probably end up in one of the up and coming suburbs.

We drove to DC for the ballgame (had tickets to the final exhibition game for the Nationals).  He’s grabbing my boobs in bumper to bumper traffic and using my shoulder as a pillow.  I’m about ready to snap.  I couldn’t find parking.  I was a bundle of nerves and not having a good time at all.  So I said, “I’m ready to go home.”  He just replied, “OK, let’s go.”  I’m not sure if he was having a panic attack or if me being upset upsets him.  But we turned around and headed back home.  Stopped in Whore Town.  My most favorite place on earth. But, they have an Olive Garden there and we don’t have one here so that’s where we ate.  He had a panic attack at the restaurant and went outside with Picasso.  I checked to see if he would be ok if we went to Hobby Lobby for a minute.  Even told him he could stay in the car because I wouldn’t be that long.  He decided to come inside with us.  Continued on with the panic attack. Was crying on the way home, saying he just wanted to get home.  It was awful.  I must have seen the text that night because I was pissed the next day, Easter.

Oh, that was fun.  No church.  No fancy clothes.  I put out the Easter baskets and left later that morning because I didn’t want anyone to see me crying.  I was crying in the shower.  I went to a park and cried some more there.  I made videos to be shown to people when they found my body.  I kept telling everyone, “I don’t want to do this but it’s the only thing I know to do. I can’t take this anymore.”  And I am at the point where I really don’t think I can take much more.  Zack is constantly throwing me under the bus to people he considers important in his life.  He’s told his sister I hate him and I’ve said horrible things about him.  He told Blockhead I didn’t care and I was only in it for the money.  It’s hard enough dealing with his PTSD, his anxiety, being moved across the fucking country, trying to repair a marriage that’s been wrecked by an affair, keeping said affair from everyone in my family.  Now let’s throw the fact that I feel like I’m dealing with everyone important to him telling him to leave me.

Again, I keep coming back to what did Blockhead have to gain by telling Zack what he saw on Facebook?  Did he think he was doing him a favor?  I realize his 4 years at East Dull with him, 3 years of being his roommate completely overshadows my 20 years of living with him, but I feel the need to point out that my way allowed me to spout off about my feelings, allowed me to vent and get it all out and didn’t harm Zack in the least.  His way sent him to the psych ward.  Oh, turns out the wife isn’t so stupid after all!

I did tell him once I got back that he was throwing me under the bus and he told me I couldn’t read those messages because I took them out of context.  He said he was trying to protect me and he didn’t want anyone to think I was the cause of his anxiety and depression.  I told him he needed to tell them that he kept it all from me- not that I don’t give a shit!  Tell them you don’t want me to see you like that.  Not that I don’t care!  Not that I’m in it for the money.

His mom, Pastor Fake, Pastor Fake’s sister and her husband all came down/over on Monday.  Left today.  It was not a long trip.  I did enjoy having them all around and we had a good time, even with me being the only person here during the day yesterday.

Pastor Fake’s sister went to take a shower and Tammy Faye asked me why I didn’t have her or Jezebel on my list of Facebook friends, and why I took Rock Star off of Jezebel’s page.  I was honest.  I told her that Jezebel had encouraged Zack to leave me and I was done with her.  I also said if she was going to encourage him to leave me she didn’t need to have access to my kids. She asked if I knew it for a fact and I told her yes, that I had the text messages on my phone.  I told her exactly what she said- Sam’s wrong, she’s crazy, you deserve better than her, leave her.

So she moved on and asked why she wasn’t on my friends list.  And again I was honest.  Said it was very difficult for me knowing everyone continued to interact with Harley.  And she replied that she was family.  Which is when I said that she may feel like she’s family but to me she’s the woman who sent my husband naked pictures and told him she loved him and could envision a future with him.  She was the woman who wanted to know how my kids would like her and if my kids would get along with her kids.  Turns out she did not know about the naked pictures. I completely forgot to tell her that she was planning on getting a tattoo of a sparrow to represent their great true love. I did tell her about the messages between him and his nephew where he bragged about marrying her.  And that he would walk out our door every morning and text her good morning and then call her and talk to her all the way to work.  I’m not sure she knows that they were sexting all the time.  I didn’t get into that.  Told her about our conversation when I found out.  She said that it was apparent he had picked me and I replied that it wasn’t that obvious to me.  I told her I had asked for a text message as proof and instead got her text message where it sounded like she was calling it off.  Told her when he was asked if she was worth losing his wife and kids he said he didn’t want to lose his kids. Told her that when I asked why she had sent the message if he had ended it he replied he thought she was trying to save face and he felt bad for hurting her- her, his whore of 3 1/2 months, not me, his wife of almost 19 years. I didn’t manage to mention the fact that she cried when he ended it, according to him, or that she had reportedly said she didn’t care if her husband knew and she wasn’t going to do anything about it, or even that she honestly thought he was going to leave me for her.

I did ask her what he had told her and she said he had just said that he and Harley were texting and I had found out.  She also told me that Harley had contacted her a few times to see how she was doing and if she needed anything. I asked if Harley knew that she knew about them and she didn’t think she did. So nice to know my husband’s whore is checking up on my mother-in-law.

In hindsight I kinda wish I had said, “Well, I’m family, too,” when Tammy Faye explained it away by saying that.  “I’m family, too.  In fact, she’s a cousin and I’m your son’s wife.  I’d think if you could only maintain one relationship you’d prefer it be with your son’s wife and not his whore, despite whatever relation she may be.”  But I didn’t.  I felt like it was a productive conversation.  She said she wanted to get our relationship back on track and that I was really her only daughter-in-law and that I had been her daughter-in-law for 20 years.  I suppose that means something but not enough to cut off contact with the whore.

I did tell her, too, that although I knew it was petty, seeing her and Pastor Fake both commenting on how pretty she was when they knew what she had done was very painful.  That’s when she said she didn’t know about the pictures.  I don’t know if she just thought they were texting each other and supporting one another through a tough time or what, but they were definitely having an affair!  She did say she didn’t believe they had ever met up in person and said it could have been worse and they could have had sex.  I told her that some days I wished he had just fucked her instead of thinking he loved her and wanted to marry her.

I also kinda wish I had told her that part of the reason I have had my doubts about Zack’s sincerity is because of the timing of us buying a house and her appearing to be having problems in her marriage. Or him telling me the paperwork was messed up and they told him he should leave me off the title of the house and put me on later.  I wish I had told her I had a huge problem with the fact that she was praying for my husband when he was in the hospital.  That bitch needs to stay the hell away from my husband in every shape and form. I don’t need her prayers.  I don’t want her damn prayers.

She thought the kids knew about the affair but I set her straight on that.  I told her they had no idea, and that no one in my family had any idea.  I also reiterated the fact that this all went down the day of Rock Star’s birthday party and only 2 days before the kids and I were supposed to get on a plane to help my mom say goodbye to her husband.  I told her I tried to call my mom and tell her I was probably getting a divorce but I never got ahold of her, more than likely because she was busy making arrangements for her dead husband.  And that I was going to tell her when I came home but I didn’t want to burden her with that after just losing her spouse.  I also told her (obviously after what I just typed) that I truly didn’t think he would end things with Harley and pick me and that’s why I was trying to get in touch with my mom.

You know, it would be so easy to pretend like none of this had ever happened.  Like it’s no big deal when I see my daughter’s name right underneath Harley’s name, or if Harley and I were to comment on the same post. I can fully admit that it’s petty but it bugs me.  I can’t imagine any reaction other than, “Wow!  Zack’s wife and his whore sure do have a lot in common!  No wonder they shared the same man for months.”

I could easily pretend that she doesn’t exist and that it doesn’t bother me that she calls my mother-in-law and checks in on her.  Isn’t it so nice that she has both of Zack’s women checking in on her- her daughter-in-law of 20 years and the whore? I could probably completely put it out of my mind that she’s around in any way.  I could refuse to ever log in on FB as anyone other than myself, and since she still has me blocked I wouldn’t see one single comment that stupid bitch makes and I could pretend she no longer exists, just like she didn’t exist for me for almost 19 years. Yep, pretend she doesn’t exist until I’m hanging out with them and she calls and they talk to her while I’m around. Then shit gets real and I don’t have the privilege of pretending she doesn’t exist because she’s right there in my face.

I could probably even make nice with Jezebel and pretend like every shitty thing she has done over the past 2-3 years doesn’t bother me either.  It’s all in the past.  Let’s live and let live. Lie to me, make a fool out of me, ditch me so you can go out to dinner with your new boyfriend that you’re not cheating on your husband with, and your brother.  Criticize me, urge my husband to leave me, support him in his affair.  That’s all A-OK!  Let’s forget about all of that and start over.

But the fact of the matter is they don’t care enough to break off contact with her.  They don’t care that having a relationship with her is costing them one with me.  I can’t rely on her not being around for a holiday dinner.  All she would have to do is call them up whining about her tough luck and they’d welcome her with open arms and I would be expected to just deal with the cunt.

And that’s another part that really sucks.  Life is not just.  Harley will never have enough decency to realize what she did was wrong.  She will never think of me and how difficult a situation might be for me.  If we’re both invited to an event that selfish, manipulative bitch will be there with bells on, not giving one flying fuck about the fact that the wife of the man she spent the summer screwing around with is there.  And when I lose my shit and tell everyone what a common street whore she is *I* look like the bad guy, the crazy one.  Everyone shakes their head and tsk tsks at me and my behavior and they all look at her like she’s the poor put upon victim.

I do really love my in-laws but they are not a safe place for me. I can’t ever trust them to put me ahead of her.  And quite frankly, I’m tired of taking a back seat to her.  If you want her so damn badly you can have her.  So stop whining about the fact that I’m not around.  You don’t need me to check up on you because your son’s whore is doing it.  There is a visceral part of me that rejects pretending all is right and nothing is wrong.  It’s like being forced to carry a rapist’s child to term against your will.  If you can wrap your mind around the fact that it is your child, too, more power to you!  But if all you can concentrate on is the fact that some man you didn’t want invading your body, invaded your body and impregnated you, and you had no choice but to carry that child to term you would probably not be happy.

Who knows, though?  It’s been about 18 months since they found out about little Miss Whore and continued to compliment her.  The pain and hurt feelings gradually diminish a tiny bit.  Maybe in the next 3 or 4 years I’ll be ready to make nice.

The husband has been off with his best friend for about 3 hours now.  Wonder if he’ll come home and announce he’s leaving me for his whore?  Wonder if he’ll just come home and announce he wants a divorce because I make him miserable and he deserves someone who loves him and not his money?  Always wonderful when those who stab you in the back come into town and have alone time with your husband. Fun, fun!

I guess I’ll hear what all they had to say when Zack comes home tonight.  Hell, maybe he’ll end up staying with him at the hotel.  I was going to text him but Rock Star said not to.

As an aside, the pool is still on.  I was going to cancel the contract because I wasn’t sure if I Zack was even going to be employed because he was practically suicidal.  I didn’t know if I was even going to be here because I was pretty sure I was going to kill myself.  I also figured if I cancel the pool then maybe he’ll realize I’m not here for the money. I was going to hand him the debit card and checkbook as well and tell him I’d get a job for spending money.

Present Day Sam Says:  I shake my head looking back on this.  Oh, how I spackled and justified.  Come on, Sam; you can do it!  You can pretend that his relatives all having a relationship with Harley doesn’t bother you.  You can take on all of Zack’s problems and blame yourself so that you can somehow fix this.  Keep dancing, girlfriend!

And again, I feel compelled to tell everyone I am NOT suicidal.

Dear Blockhead

February 2015

I’m curious. What was it about my page that made you think you needed to run to my husband and tell him all about it? Do you think that somehow those 3 or 4 years living as college roommates makes you more able to judge what he could or could not handle? I mean, I realize I’ve only lived with him for the last 20 years. That’s nothing compared to the years you two spent together. You lived with a teenager, pre war. I’ve lived with a grown man post war, moved all over the country with him, had his children, had his back, was his biggest cheerleader. Where have you been? We’ve seen you a grand total of 5 times in those 20 years. Yes, we’re very similar. Almost identical. And yet, your way ended up with him in a downward spiral that culminated in a stay in the psych ward. My way didn’t. So guess what? I win! Turns out I do know my husband.

Again, I’m curious as to what it was that you found so alarming. Was it the pictures of his whore? I’m not sure what was so concerning about that. Was it when I would try to wrap my brain around the concept of his family embracing his whore? Because once again I’m not sure what’s so alarming about that. Was it the times my anniversary triggered me and sent me on my own downward spiral? I suppose that might seem like something you might want to run and tell him all about. Then again we’re back to: I know my husband. I know he doesn’t want to deal with any of this. He wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend like he never cheated. I know this about him. You obviously don’t. Because once again, your way sent him on a downward spiral that ended with a trip to the psych ward. Mine didn’t. Mine simply let me vent and work through it on my own. Was it when I vowed to destroy him if he was still cheating on me with Harley? I think that’s a fairly reasonable stance. He knows this. I’ve told him. You also need to emphasize that small word: IF. If he screws me over I’ll return the favor. If he doesn’t we’re all good. Was it the part where I agreed to move closer to the whore, to the town they devised us moving to so they could be closer? I mean, what a bitch! What kind of horrible wife would uproot her life and the life of her kids to support her husband? What kind of a bitch says, “I’m perfectly happy here. The kids are happy. But if you’re miserable then we’ll move. It’s not fair to make you miserable. We’ll adjust.” You’re absolutely right! You did the correct thing by running and telling him all about that. Make sure you tell him how much I hate it here and how much I miss my old life. Maybe even leave the first part out because that makes me sound too nice and understanding. Hell, I come across as almost supportive and you’re clearly going for bitch. Was it the entries when I did my best to put a positive spin on his affair? You know, my bone analogy. My long and winding road analogy. Maybe it was when I talked about other blogs that pissed me off, or when I would copy things that were meant to be inspirational. Was it all the talk about our 20th anniversary and how conflicted I was? Maybe it was all the details of their affair. Did you think he needed to know I sometimes wondered what would have happened on D Day if I had played it completely different? Because I didn’t. Did you think he needed to know how worthless and pathetic I sometimes felt for staying because everyone says leave? Because I didn’t. Did you think he needed to know how pissed off I was with his sister and all of her lies? Because again, your way: psych ward. My way: No psych ward. Was it simply the fact that after a year I hadn’t completely let it go? I guess once Zack said he was sorry I was supposed to develop amnesia. I’m so sorry that his indiscretion can still hurt me 18 months later. I’m sorry I still have questions and doubts because my husband wouldn’t answer my questions or he lied. I’m sorry I haven’t completely forgotten every shitty thing and that I can’t blissfully focus on the future. It might be a lot easier if his whore were out of our lives, but since everyone in his family must stay in contact and fawn all over her that’s not a possibility. It’s hard to move on when the whore has a front row seat into our lives. I’m not sure what sent you running gleefully to my husband and you know what? I don’t care. That page was for me. It was my place to vent so I could pretend for my husband that everything was forgotten. I left it public so that she would hopefully see it. Or someone she loved would see it and know what a whore she was.

I would love to know what on earth made you think you were doing the right thing. Because it wasn’t the right thing. He ended up suicidal and hospitalized. And where were you? I’m the shitty wife he needs to be protected from but I’m the one picking up all the pieces you left behind when you broke him. I’m the one who sat with him. I’m the one who drove him to the ER and stayed with him for hours, leaving our kids home alone for hours. I’m the one arranging for rides for our kids while he was hospitalized. I’m the one that was up there for the entire duration of visiting hours every single day. In fact, I was the one that had to keep everyone, including those that want so badly to stick a huge machete in my back, updated. And again I ask, where were you? You emailed me almost a week after he got home to see how he was doing. No texts, emails, or phone calls to him. I haven’t replied and I don’t know that I will. You’re so damned concerned about him when you’re throwing me under the bus. You figure it out. You’ve obviously got his number. Use it. Instead of calling to let him know how horrible his wife is maybe you could call to check up on him and see how he’s doing.

The Whole Sad Story, Part 1.5

When we last left off our heroine was bravely throwing a party for her daughter and preparing to board an airplane a few days later to go to her step-father’s funeral.  Do my husband and his whore have perfect timing or what?

I truly believe he thought that once he said he chose me he figured that would be the end of it.  Unfortunately for him that’s not the way it worked out.  I had lots of questions and I had learned from my last go around that if you didn’t strike while the iron was hot you weren’t going to get any answers.  I spent a lot of time asking him questions about what all had gone on.  I also outlined several deal breakers for me.  1.  No contact with the whore.  I told him I didn’t care if her entire family died in a fiery explosion he wasn’t to so much as send a sympathy card. 2.  Marital counseling. 3. Give me all your passwords and get the damn passcode off your phone.  4.  Do not discuss our marital problems with your sister.  She was the person he would confide in and is a big proponent of doing whatever makes you happy.  I suppose that explains why she’s been married three times and never gets a divorce until she’s got the next husband waiting in the wings.  Her advice to him?  You deserve to be happy; you should do whatever makes you happy.  Now keep in mind he was gushing about how happy his whore was making him this entire time.

We spent a lot of time texting back and forth, especially while I was out of state.  I found out lots of interesting things, like how they had said they loved each other, how she suggested he move all of us closer to his home state (this is what led to him seeking his current place of employment), how she sent him naked pictures all summer long, how they talked about all the things they wanted to do with one another.  I found out they have almost nothing in common. She doesn’t like movies or television and my husband spends his life in front of the tv.  She’s a hard core liberal and he’s a hard core conservative.  Then again, they’re both lying cheaters so maybe that’s a common denominator that will keep them together.  I discovered that he would leave our house every morning and text her good morning and then they would talk the entire drive to work and text all day long.  I found out she told him every little mundane thing that went on in her little mundane world and that he liked that.  I discovered that on the weekends, when he was supposedly going for coffee, he was actually using that time to text her.  I found out that despite the fact his parents knew what happened they continued to associate with her and fawn over her numerous profile pictures.  I found out that within days of them beginning their affair she was telling him she could envision a future with him and that when he ended it with her she cried because she really thought he was going to leave me for her.  I found out she asked if my kids would like and get along with her kids, and if my kids would like her.  I discovered that when my daughter was taken to the ER he had told her he was going to the hospital and then updated her after the crisis was averted.  I found out that when her husband discovered their texts once again my husband asked her what she was going to do.  Her reply:  I’m not going to do anything.  I don’t care if he knows.

I should have known that recovery was not going to go well when we had our first counseling session and he got pissed because I told the counselor what had been going on.  He accused me of being “fucking perfect” on our drive home.  Mind you, he didn’t speak up or give his own version of the events.  Nope, just sat there.  When I asked him about it he said he was hoping that we could “focus on the future”.  I believe that’s code for:  Let’s just forget this ever happened.

Hell, I should have known recovery wasn’t going well when he sent me the text that supposedly ended it and it was a text FROM HER to him, telling him that they just couldn’t do this any more.  She was acting like the heroine from some low budget movie.  And his response revolved all around honor and duty.  “I need to be a better man!”  Fuck that!  I wanted him to tell the bitch it was over and that he loved his wife!  When I questioned him he admitted that yes, she had sent the text, but he had actually called her right after our conversation and ended it.  He told her that I knew and she asked what they were going to do.  He told her it was over and she began to cry.  Then he told her that he could never leave me and said good-bye.  That’s not really what I asked for, is it?  I even brought it up in counseling but at that point what could he do?  The counselor asked me if I wanted him to make contact with the whore.  Well, when you put it like that…. of course not!  But the fact remains I never got my text message where he ended it.  I was never given that satisfaction.

I should have known recovery was not going well when I got a little depressed a few weeks after D-Day and was asking him some more questions.  He was frustrated despite me telling him from the beginning that this might go on for a while and it wasn’t going to be an overnight fix.

I should have known recovery was not going to go well when he went back to visit his family in September and I began asking him more questions yet again.  Keep in mind his parents live about an hour away from the whore, so me even being amenable to him going there by himself was a sign of (misplaced) trust on my part.  He eventually turned it around into a “Woe is me” thing.  Yeah, poor poor baby, having to answer questions because you cheated on your wife.

It was around this time period that he brought up moving to our current location.  I have to hand it to him; he’s very good at playing the victim.  It began with “I know you don’t want to move.  I’ll just give up on this idea.  I’ll learn to be happy here.”  The middle involved him telling me that he thought he’d end up in a mental ward if he had to stay isolated out where we were.  It ended with me insisting that the goal was for all of us to be happy and the kids would adjust and I’d be happy wherever he was; we needed to do what was good for our future.

In October I came across messages between him and a relative from early May.  In them he was asking if he could bring a “guest” with him and went on to tell him that it was a female guest.  Went further to tell him that he couldn’t say much because he needed to protect “the innocent” but he would one day be related to her (in other words, he was going to marry the bitch as soon as he divorced his wife). That was when I found out she was going to get a tattoo with him- a symbol of their true love.

I refused to come home that night at first.  He was frantic and threatened to kill himself if I left him.  I did eventually come back that evening.

The next day he asked me if I wanted to go get coffee and I said I didn’t.  He acted all sad, and once again, like he was the victim.  I finally told him:  I didn’t understand at first why this upset me so much.  I knew the two of you had told each other you loved one another, so I couldn’t figure out why this gutted me.  But now I realize it’s because it was always serious with the two of you.  Pretty much from the first moment you two got involved it was serious.

What I was realizing was that this conversation was taking place within about 2 weeks after they began their affair.  Two weeks!  In two weeks time he had decided to throw away his wife and kids for a cousin who lives over a thousand miles away!  They love each other.  They’re planning a life together.  It was gut wrenching.

We talked about it a little bit more and that’s when I found out his first confession was false- there had never been multiple women.  It was always only her and he had told me there were three of them to protect her and make their relationship seem less serious.  He insisted that they had never met up and said that was proof right there that he wasn’t really that into her.  Obviously if he didn’t try harder to see her in person then he must not have really wanted to hook up.  He told me that she was the biggest mistake of his life, that he thought maybe she was a mid-life crisis and that he should have bought a motorcycle.  He told me he talked to her the way he wanted to be able to talk to me; in fact, he thought maybe he was using her as a replacement for me, his real true love.  He told me he had blocked her phone number on his phone.  And then he asked if we could not talk about this for a few days because it was causing him so much anxiety.

It was the last time we talked about his affair.

In the meantime we took a romantic vacation for his birthday (the first time we did that since we had had kids) and he did get the job that he wanted, which meant another cross country move that would take us mere hours away from her.  I kept an eye on her through social media.  The weekend that the kids and I were flying back from a weekend of house hunting I noticed that her husband had taken down his profile picture; it had been a picture of them on their wedding day and he had put it up right after she and CF had supposedly ended their affair.  She also was no longer listed as one of his friends.  That set off alarm bells but I pushed them away.  After all, my husband and I were happy.  We were happier than we had been in a long time.  We did date nights! We had taken a family vacation!  We had lots more sex!  We did everything together!  I even texted him all day long despite the fact that it always felt like he was replacing her with me.

The day that the movers came I had to run down and sign some papers and have them delivered back to my husband (he was already living in our new location while I was taking care of everything back at our old location).  Once he got the documents he told me his name was spelled wrong and they suggested that they only put his name on the deed and they’ll add mine later.  I lost my shit and came right out and asked him if he was planning on divorcing me once we got to the new location.  “Oh my God, why would you ask that?  I’m crying now!”  I called him up and told him it looked like she and her husband were in the midst of a divorce and it was a little too much of a coincidence that she and her husband were divorcing just as we were moving closer.  At this point he told me he gave less than a fuck what *that* person was doing.  He had no idea what she was doing and he didn’t care.  He told me he would have the documents sent to me again and we would have to do it all over again.  I believed him. Turns out they could use the documents I signed after all; my name was put on the deed.

During the time leading up to me and the kids leaving I gave him a few outs.  I remember telling him once:  When I get out there I’m not leaving.

For his part he told me he was constantly worried that I was going to tell him I wasn’t coming out there.  I would visit but I wasn’t moving. In hindsight I wish I had taken that advice.

We moved.  Things seemed to be going great. We bought furniture for the house.  I decorated.  I got a new car. The kids finally got a new trampoline.  Then sometime after our anniversary and the holidays he began a downward spiral.  At first I thought it was due to a movie that had come out that was triggering bad memories.  I saw a text message where he told his sister that he never should have tried to be happy and that I hated him.

I found more text messages over the next few months.  He would tell his sister I hated him; he flat out lied about a hospital stay and how I had written that he was annoying me and wasting my time.  She begged him to leave me and told him I was crazy and wrong and that he deserved so much better.  He told his best friend that I hadn’t checked on him all day, that I just left him upstairs to cry by himself.  He knew I hated him and I probably just stayed for the money.

Where was all this coming from?  It turns out his “best friend” found my other Facebook page, a page with no friends on it that I used as a blog to write about my feelings regarding his whore, his affair, and his family who chose her over me.  He let my drama queen husband know all about it and would feed him information.  This is the same man who, if I didn’t like a gift he bought for me, would consider it a personal affront and proof positive that he was the worst person in the world, so why on earth this “friend” would tell him about it is beyond me.  I suppose he figured they were roommates during college so he knew him much better than I possibly could after twenty years of marriage despite the fact that they had only seen each other a handful of times over the years.  For the record, a good 90% of what was on that page was pictures of her, making fun of her, memes, talking about the betrayal I felt over his family not cutting ties with her, and other such innocuous stuff.  Maybe 10% was about our relationship and not even all of that was negative.  Our anniversary would trigger me and I would write about how sad I was and how I felt like our anniversary was fake.  Nothing about him or what a horrible person he was or how much I hated him.  Just me having a hard time dealing with our anniversary.  Apparently I’m not allowed to feel that way.  My bad!

To make matters worse all during this time he wouldn’t talk to me about what was bothering him.   Like I said, he began this downward spiral around the holidays and I didn’t discover for another 6-8 weeks that he had read my page. For my part once I realized what had happened I shut the page down immediately.  I had no idea how to bring it up because I never felt like there was a good time.  Either he was so depressed and pitiful and I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound, or he was finally having somewhat of a good day and I didn’t want to bring him down.

He finally seemed to be headed on the road to recovery (probably had started up with the whore again). I remember telling friends I was done with his affair.  I didn’t want to think about it anymore.  I didn’t want to dwell on it.  I no longer cared about her or what she was doing.  I didn’t even regularly read the infidelity blogs that I had bookmarked.  We were good.  We were in a good place and I was ready to move on.  Things were looking up and I was eager to get back to our new location and to resuming my life there.  All thoughts of the affair and the whore were over.  I was more positive than I had been in a long time since our move.

Maybe I should have been more concerned when he blew off our family vacation to go on a “business” trip and then opted to go visit his mom at the end of that trip.