Discovery Day 9-20-2015

For me, I feel like if I look over my shoulder, I see the past 9 months through a thick fog.  You may wonder why I would want to go back.  I feel like I need to.  I feel like I need to, so that when I turn back around and look forward, that I'm seeing a little more clear, and hope I'm not peering through fog.

This will be honest.  This will contain cussing, sex, anger, pain.  Just a forewarning.   I guess this will be long, boring, and read like a story.  I have to get it out. 

Before I begin the insanity, let me just give a quick background.  I've been with this man since I was 19 years old.  25 years together, 20 of them married.

This man was my everything.  My constant, my partner, an amazing father and he was my husband.

Now, I'm about to find out he's a little bit more.  He's a liar, a cheater, a bastard, betrayer, sneaky, cowardly chicken-shit asshole.  He's someone I no longer know.

He went on a camping trip with our sons.  It was the weekend of Sept. 18.  He got home on Sunday, the 20^th.  One of the first things I do when he gets back is ask for pictures.  He usually does not have a signal where he is when camping, so I wait patiently to see their adventures when he gets back.   There was a new kid on the trip this time, and since it was a pretty high adventure trip, I thought it would be awesome if that boys Mom could see pictures of her son climbing.

He had unpacked, I made lunch, he had a beer, his iPad, feet up, comfy pants on, football game on the TV.  He is sitting next to me.  I asked, “Hey, any pictures from the trip?  I know (new kids mom) would love to see her son climbing.”  He acted strange… mumbled a little something incoherent, then said, “Not that many this time.”  I just looked at him, and said, “Oh.  Well let me see what you have?”   I’m telling you, I could tell by the energy in the air, something was off.  He seemed nervous.  I was actually confused… and yet…. I knew.  Somewhere in me, I knew.  He picked up his phone, moved further away from me, and scrolled through the handful of shots as fast as he could.  I shook my head, confused, said, “What the hell?  I can’t see, slow down.  Gimmee your phone?”  He literally jumped up, grabbed his iPad, his phone, and said, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

I knew.  I knew then.  I didn’t say anything.   He was in the bathroom for quite some time.  My heart was pounding in my chest.

He comes out, the game is heading into the second quarter.  He sits down.  I’m just sitting there next to him, acting like the game is the only thing on my mind.   I let about 10 minutes pass, and then said, “Can I see the pictures?”  He pulls up his phone, unlocks it, opens the photo album to the first picture, and hands me the phone to see the rest.   I smiled… looked through, commented on a few of them, and handed his phone back.

The boys stumbled into the kitchen to eat.  The oldest watched a few minutes of the game.  Small talk about the trip, the football game.  He mumbles something and he goes off to his room.  It’s half time now.   I picked up the remote, turned off the TV.   He says, “Hey!  Turn that back on!”  I looked at him.  I can still see his face.  I can still see the look in his eyes.  My heart was pounding so hard, I could hear it in my head, the room felt like it was dropping out from under my feet.  “Who is she?”  I said.

This man.  This man… the father of our three kids.  Our provider.  Our backbone, our strength, the center of my world… slumps down into the cushions of the couch, puts his fucking leg up on his knee, so that his face is hidden behind it… and says in a small tiny, unrecognizable voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cannot tell you exactly what was said and what happened in the hours after that.  I remember that at one point, because the kids came into the living room, we started texting each other, that he literally texted me, “I want to be friends.”  But still denying there was someone else.  I remember him telling me that it was over between us for a long time, but still denying there was anyone else.  I was so confused.  How is he sitting here telling me its over?  Isn’t it over when you both know?  

I remember looking into the kitchen, and seeing a cast iron pan he had JUST bought me.  He had just taken me out, days before this, bought me antiques, took me to lunch, brought me home, made love to me.  He had just taken me to the movies, and it was a movie made from a book that we both loved, and both read several times.  We had been having an amazing connection for weeks leading up this night.  We had been making love, holding hands… smiling.  It was good.

I remember walking into the kitchen and picking up the pan.  I stood there holding it… it was an amazing gift, he knew how much I wanted the pan… this gorgeous 100 year old cast iron pan that seemed to fit right into our 200 year old farm house.  I looked at him, and stood there holding the pan.  He looked scared.  His eyes were big… I think he thought I was going to hit him with the pan.

I opened the back door and sent that pan flying into the field. 

I told him to get his shit and leave.  He swore again, “There is no one else, you’re crazy.”  But then went right back into what a horrible wife I was, and how it had been over between us for a long time. It was hours.  Hours of going back and forth with questions, denials, lies.

I remember climbing into the shower, I wanted to wash off the pain and confusion.   He was refusing to leave, so I decided I would.   It was closing in on midnight by this time. 

I remember getting into the truck and driving down the driveway.  I didn’t know where I was going.  I got to the end of the driveway, and I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t breathe…and I was going to be sick.  I opened the door, fell to my knees  and threw up.  I cried, I could hear this sad, unrecognizable wailing coming from me...I felt like I was crying from the bottom of my soul.  I climbed back into the truck, and after a minute or two, turned it around and headed back to the house.  He was in the driveway.  I stopped and picked him up.  He asked me if I was OK.  I cried.   He pulled me across the seats and into his arms, he whispered “You’re the only one I want.  I want you.”   I asked again, “Who is she?”  He swore again and again, “No one.”

I pulled up and parked, and sat there.  We went in.  More questions, more denying.  More crying.  I then remembered the pan… I didn’t want it to get ruined, the grass was wet.  I flew out of the house into the field to get it.  I found it, the moon was bright.  I remember falling to my knees, hugging that stupid pan, crying.  I heard him coming up behind me, I felt him picking me up, I felt him pulling me towards the house.  He got me inside, took me up to our room, undressed me and put me to bed like a child.  Was I in shock?  I couldn't seem to move.  Was I holding on to a small sliver of hope that he was being truthful when he said there was no one?  After all.. this entire evening is going on a feeling I had.  My soul knew though.  I knew.

He undressed, climbed in next to me, wrapped himself around me, and made love to me.  It was sweet, kind, slow, loving.  He buried his face in my neck.  He just kept telling me, “I want you.”  He fell asleep holding me tight.

He fell asleep easy.  I did not.  My stomach was wrecked.  It was in knots, my heart beat wouldn’t slow down.  I slid out of bed around 4am, picked up my iPad, went down to the couch.  I looked up his facebook page, I wanted to see what girl on there was liking pictures.  I looked up his Instagram.  I was looking for a pattern.  By 5 am, I had it narrowed down to two girls.  I wondered if I could look up our phone bill on the iPad, I didn’t want to turn my computer on, I didn’t want to wake him.  I couldn’t tip him off that I was searching for answers.  Turns out, I could.  There it was.  Two phone numbers repeating, and long conversations on both.  The times matched when he was out of the house, eating lunch… so on.  One was a cell phone number that had no search results.  The other was some business in the next town over.  As far as I knew, he was not getting any work done that would require that business.  I just knew.  But I didn't say anything as he came downstairs and got ready for work. 

I made coffee.  Sat on the deck, watched the sun come up.  He made coffee, checked on me, hugged me, told me he loved me.  He held on tight.  I cried.  He told me to have a good day.  He told me he loved me again.   The kids left for school.  They were looking at us strange.  They knew something was up, but had no idea what.

Finally, he left.  That's what I was waiting for.   I went to his night stand, grabbed his old iPhone, that he still used once in a while.  I knew, he may not have known at the time, but I knew that his iPad, his iPhone and his old iPhone all linked up together.

Within seconds, I had her name.  Funny, it was actually one of the two I had narrowed it down to.  I had actually wondered about this girl for a while.  Back in January, her husband died, and my husband went to the funeral.  He knew them.  She sent him a message not long after the funeral that I found sort of interesting, at the time, to be sending my husband so soon after hers had passed.  Back then, I checked out her facebook page, and found her annoying.  She posed with her dogs a lot, she showed her boobs, she was dripping in victim, narcissism and “poor me”.  She a shit ton of pictures of herself looking to the side.  (Nothing annoys me more.. bitch, don't act like someone else is taking the pictures)  It's the most annoying selfie, besides ducklips and dirty bathroom mirror pictures, that anyone can take of themselves.  But that's just my opinion.  Anyway, I digress.

  

It was her.  I could see the messages they sent to each other during the camping trip.  She sent him pictures, he sent her pictures.  She talked about letting her kids out… (her fucking dogs, who are not kids, she does not have children)  I was actually seeing red.  

I sent her a message on facebook:

I took this picture and sent it to him.  I doubt by this time he was even a half mile down the road from when he left for work.  

He replied, "Oh my god."  and then called me. He wanted to know how I found out.  I'm actually smiling a little at this point, because damn, I really did find out quick, and I am already on her ass. 

He and I hung up, and I texted her to the number I found on our phone bill:

(Yeah.  I have her in my phone as “the Whore” so what)

What else could she be to me?

So, she didn’t have anything to say to defend herself after I let her know I saw the messages and pictures between them over the weekend.

He and I talked all through the day.  He swore nothing happened between them.  He swore that it was over, and that he wouldn’t talk to her again.  He called her that day, and I could see it was a 15 minute call on the phone bill.   He told me she cried, yelled at him for lying to her, and that it was over.

I asked him, “What did you lie to her about?”  He said, “I told her our marriage was over”

I said, "Don't you think you should have told ME that before you went to another woman?"  He didn't answer.

He came home from work that day, hugged me, told me he was sorry.  He wrapped himself around me that night, and we made love again.  It was a crazy feeling, raw, passionate... desperation.  I was clinging hard, I couldn't lose him.  But he is the one that has initiated the sex over the past night and day.  I'm numb and so confused. How can I want him to touch me?  I'm internally battling the shit out of myself over this, but seem to have no control.

DDay...  It's the most clear day of the past 9 months.. and yet it's still foggy.  


If you would like to share your DDay, please feel free to do so.  Write and release, write and release. :)