I went to work that Monday morning, and sat at my desk, dazed. I had not slept. I'm way to old to be pulling an all nighter. I can't believe I've gone to work.
I'm sitting at my desk, and a co-worker comes in and sits down and talks about her weekend. At one point, I looked over at her, and I remember her gasp. She said, "Oh, what is wrong?" I said, "I didn't sleep last night. I need to find some coffee." She asked why I had not slept. I just looked at her, I felt like I was standing next to myself, I didn't feel real. It didn't sound like my voice when I answered her. "My husband has a girlfriend." She was shocked. She asked what was going on. I told her what I knew. I showed her the text between the OW {Other Woman} and I just minutes before.
It's so fresh at this point. I'm in some kind of weird shock. I don't even remember driving to work. But I looked at her as I was talking about the discovery. I looked at her, and I said, "This is horrible. I'm in shock, but I KNOW why it happened. I can see it, I can feel it. I even understand why."
We had just gone through a foreclosure. It was an extremely long process, and it was terrifying to go through. He had always provided well, made very good money, ran his own business. We bought at the height of the market, and when the recession hit about 6 years ago, it hit us very hard. We went from 6 figures a year to almost nothing. It hit him hard. We both carried the weight of uncertainty, and fear of being homeless with three children, but he carried it harder. He held the most weight.
That was one of our problems there, we were both under so much stress, but we didn't talk to each other about it.
Not only were we facing this foreclosure, but in knowing that it was going to happen, we rented a small, very old, farm house. It needed a lot of work, so much work that it was a year of working on it to make it livable before we moved in. When we foreclosed, we moved into the farm, and right around that time, his brother had a massive heart attack. He was his partner at work, his brother, his friend. His brother pulled through, but it's a miracle that he did.
He wasn't the same after that. I watched him shutting down. I did not know how to reach him. I watched him shrink under the weight of all that was going on around him. I did not even know how to talk to him. My life was insanely busy with the kids. I was running them everywhere, they are all involved in so much activities. Between work, and the kids, and my husband who was disappearing before my eyes, I was lost. I saw it. I tried to talk to him, but I'm sure it came out to him as bitching and nagging. I felt like I was raising the kids alone, running everywhere, every day, and he was literally sitting on the couch playing an iPhone game.
Hours he played that game. On weekends? He played that game 15+ hrs a day. Past midnight or later on weeknights. I went to bed by myself every single night. He started sinking money into the game. I was annoyed, and honestly, confused. I wouldn't do that, so I couldn't comprehend him doing it. If I was sitting at one of the kids events, I would be cheering them on, and he would have his face in that game.
He picked that game up around the same time his brother had a heart attack... So as pissed off as it made me? I sort of understood.
I definitely got bitchy. I got bitchy, and I got lonely. I started resenting. But I didn't voice it all the time. I would go about my life, and it would build internally. It would get let out about once a month. I would bitch about the game, I would bitch about yard work, or that we didn't do anything as a family anymore. I would bitch, but I would bitch nicely. I knew he was going through something, so my bitch would be not as raging as I felt inside.
He felt like I was a nagging, bitch of a wife. I could not see at the time that his world had taken a serious hit. His EGO had taken a hit. He's never relied on anyone for anything. He rarely talks. I think he felt like he lost our home, and I think he felt some kind of awareness at the near death of his brother. It's not usual for someone in our age range to have that type of heart attack.
So, I told her. My co-worker... I told her. "I KNOW why it happened. I can see it, I can feel it. I even understand why." I tell her everything that he had been going through, that I think led up to this.
I told her, "This woman? This other woman? She has no children. She represents relief to him. There's no responsibility to her. He doesn't have to provide for her, shelter her, take care of her. I think he thinks he has failed me and the kids. I have never, ever told him he failed us, I believe that feeling is inside of him. I have held on to him during the last couple of years, trying to make him understand that I don't care about losing the house, we could live in a goddamn box for all I care, as long as we are all together. A house doesn't make a family, the people do."
She asked me, "How long has it been going on?" I said, "I don't know. We were up all night, and he kept denying there was anyone else." I told her how I found out he lied that morning, with the other phone, and him admitting it once he saw I messaged her. I said, "I know nothing else right now." So I picked up my phone and texted him. I asked, how long? He didn't want to talk to me at work. I said, "Fine, I'll just text her and ask." He replied right away. "A week." he said.
I was dumbfounded. What?! A week? I pulled up the info I could on that phone, and damn, he was telling the truth. They exchanged phone numbers around the 10th of September. 11 days. I started replaying every single second of the past 11 days. Every second, every moment, every single word we spoke to each other replayed through my head.
Is that normal? I don't know. Someone please tell me if that's normal, or if I'm the only one.
I have since nicknamed it, "The Timeline" I replayed the timeline a million times. I realized that the previous Tuesday, he had gone out that night, and was supposed to be with friends. I knew he was with her.
I checked her facebook. I looked at that Tuesday... She posted that she was leaving work early, and was excited. By that time, it was only 5 days into them 'talking.' I was so pissed.
She had all this other stupid shit on her facebook page, too. She had these dumbass pictures posted that said shit like, "Having a deep conversation with someone is the new making love" "You're the one I couldn't forget even at the last breath I take. You're the one my heart longs for because I found real joy in you." "Date someone who gives you chills just by the way they look into your eyes" I was sick to my stomach.
When we got home from work, the questions started. He refused to answer anything that night. That was Monday, and like I said in the previous blog, we ended that night in each others arms, wrapped around each other all night.
I slept, but not well. I felt like my heart rate was never going to slow down, and my stomach was in knots. I hadn't eaten since Sunday morning.
When I woke up the next day, I was feeling a little frisky, so I woke him up with my hands. We made love again, and once again, I battled internally, trying to figure out my actions. I don't understand how or why I would want to touch him, or have him touch me. What was going on?
But it wasn't long into the morning before I started in on the questions again. Needing to know everything I could. When did it start? It's only been 11 days, how many times could you have possibly seen each other? Have you talked since I found out who she is?... on and on.
He's making coffee, looking at me sadly. He answers. "We've seen each other 3 times. I went to her work twice, we had lunch both times." "Yes, I went to her house that Tuesday night, we just talked, I promise." "We have not spoken since yesterday when I called her and she was angry."
I flew out of the house. (I will spend a lot of time over the next 9 months flying out of the house like a crazy person) I couldn't breathe. I was crying like an idiot. I know damn well he did not go to her house just to talk. I started yelling, "You fucked her! You fucked her!" He grabbed me, holding on tight, he said, "Sometimes you need something from someone that's not sex, I did not have sex with her." He held me tight for a long time, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
We went to work. I just sat at my desk again. Dazed, sick, tired. Needing coffee. My friend came in, I filled her in on the details that I had. "No." She said, "I don't think they hooked up, he didn't do it. You found out before it happened, I think. You guys can work this out, you'll be OK."
My facebook posts by this time were bordering on some violence. Not like me at all. I'm usually pleasant on FB, and stay out of drama. I definitely checked out her page, she had some dumbass post about wearing some ugly boots to work and kicking some ass around there. I believe I sprained my left eye rolling it when I read that stupidity.
But, it was like 2 minutes later when she blocked me. Oh well, there went my stalking ability.
But MY posts were so not like me, that my best friend texted me and asked me if I was alright. No. I replied. No. So I filled her in as much as I could. We had off the next day (Wednesday) so she asked me to come over, and talk.
She's not only my friend, but she's his too. Her and her husband, and me and mine did a lot of things together over the past decade. She knew my husband, and was very shocked that this was happening, and that he did something like this.
Tuesday night brought more questions, more tears, more love making. Still not much sleep for me, and I still couldn't get any food down. At that point I have not eaten since Sunday still. Only about 5 total hours of sleep.
The next day, Wednesday, I'm off work, and I'm having trouble getting off the couch. I start playing "Titanium" and I can't stop crying. My oldest, who pretty much knows exactly what is going on at this point, walks by and leans down for a hug. "You'll be alright, Mom. You'll be alright." Kisses my cheek and goes back to his room.
My friend texts me, she says, "Where the hell are you, get over here." I almost don't go. I feel so weird... no sleep, no food, my heart rate is insane. But I go. We spend the afternoon talking about it, she's shocked it's only been a week for them, she also assures me that she doesn't think they slept together either. I needed that time with her, I felt better. She told me to go home and sleep and eat.
I wanted to, but didn't. He comes home from work. He goes downstairs into his office. He doesn't say anything to me really.
I go downstairs to him. This night is a blur now. Very foggy, and I don't know much of what happened. But this is the day, the night, the moment, that I boarded the train to Crazy Town. It's 9 months later, and I'm pretty sure I'm not getting out. I want off this train ride so bad. I want my life back.
No comments:
Post a Comment