Just dump the whole thing on me!

I've said this from the start.

Dump the whole bucket on me... Don't slowly fill your cheap water gun from the dollar store, and just shoot me with little drops of water.

Dump.  The.  Whole.  Bucket.  On.  Me.

It's what I want.  It's what I need.

I need to come up, gasping for air, cold from the shock, dry off, warm up and heal.

I don't want little drops hitting me for days, months, years.  I don't want to keep getting wet over and over, and have to continually dry off.

I tell him this.  He looks at me.

I tell him again, he just looks at me.

I tell him again.  For over a year, I've told him this.  He just looks at me.

And is silent.

I have always felt this way.  I'm not a mouse.  I can take a hit.  Just dump the whole thing on me, let me drown a little, and let me sift through the crap.



To be honest?  I thought I was alone in this.  But recently read another blog entry that helped me realize I wasn't the only one to think this way, and that we, as betrayed spouses, deserve the truth if you want to reconcile.

Her entry: Drip, Drip, Drip
Though I'm glad I'm not so alone?  I'm sad that there are so many of us.



I wish he would listen...

It's been a year

It's been a little over a year since that night.

It has not been easy.  There have been some amazing days, weeks.  There have been the lowest of the lows.

There has not been a single day that I have not thought of them together.  I've watched as many videos as I can,  I've read articles,  I've bought and read a million books.  I vent anonymously on Twitter.

But I feel like I'm still just laying in the grass by the creek.

Summer of '16 rolled in, and it found us going to a marriage counselor.  Our first visit, he asked the guy, "So, can she come alone?"

wtf?

He thinks only I need the counseling.  I went alone for 6 visits.  Counselor decided that I have 'abandonment issues' from my past.  From that stemmed how I actually loved my husband, and allowed him to love me.  He was right.  I did spend the past 27 years with this man, behind a protective wall.  I think I was always waiting for him to leave me.  Well, he did.

The 7th visit found him coming with me.  We ended up in a HUGE fight on that couch, and the counselor never returned my calls or texts after that.  Abandonment..  at the pushing of my husband, I found another one about 2 month ago, and I'm still not sure about this whole counseling thing.

I had an appointment this past Monday.  I was seeing him just once a month, but after what I dumped on him this past session, he's trying to see me once a week.  No.  Too much.

I wonder if I could write about what I dumped on him.  I AM anonymous here... I wonder it it would help to write it out...

I feel like HE needs counseling, too.  But he says he's fine, and doesn't need to talk to anyone.

One thing I know, is I need disclosure from him.  I need some details... and he's not willing to do so.  I've given him every article, every video, every blog post I can find, showing him the importance of disclosure. I've given him my reasons that I need them... nothing.

Crickets.  Or, sometimes he will grab me and we'll have sex.  I've noticed that he uses that a lot.  He used that during his affair, too.  Is it deflection? Take my mind somewhere else?

I feel like no matter what I read, or spend on counseling, or watch on youtube, that if he doesn't disclose, I will not begin healing. So how long do I stay in this limbo?

Some don't need details.  I am not one of those people.  I need information.

I have a good friend that has been by my side the whole journey. But she has not been through this.  She will ask me at times, "Why do you need to know?"  Another friend says, "What good will it do you to know now?"  Again, neither have been through it.

I need to know, because it feels like he is still keeping secrets, living that double life, still lying.  Like I am not worth knowing anything of his secret love affair.  But I am supposed to stay with him, because he chose me.  He chose me, but did he?  Or did she dump him and now I'm just the fall back second choice?

Actually... I have gotten a couple details.  I guess I should be lucky?  I wanted to know where they went out to dinner.  I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO THE SAME PLACES.

He told me. (It took him 3 months to tell me)  I processed it.  I had my moments of envisioning them there.  I had my anger.  I imagined he had a wonderful time watching her eat meat. (I don't) I imagined him telling her that he loved that she did.  I had my moments with the disclosure of the restaurants.   I'm processed, I'm through it.  I no longer obsess about where they went.  I know.  I wish he could see that, that talking to me and answering my questions calms my imagination and helps me process.

I also got Valentines day.  This took him literally 7 months to tell me.  Valentines day '16.  "Did you see her?  I woke up that morning, and you had left for work, I didn't see you all day."

He swore up until the night he told the truth that he didn't see her at all.  But he finally came clean, (sort of, I know he's still lying)   "Yes, after work I stopped by and gave her flowers."  7 months of asking, and lying to my face up to the moment of telling me the truth??

Damaging to rebuilding trust, let me tell you.

Valentines Day '17 found me in a complete meltdown from the triggers and contacting the other woman.  Upcoming post. My twitter friends really let me have it for contacting her!  lol!  I'm sorry! #WeakMoment

Have I processed through that tidbit of disclosure?  A little.  I think it's hard, because I know he's still lying about it.  Do I care?  I'm getting over it.   Some of my friends advice is starting to sink in a little, "What good does that do you now?"

And that's it.   That's all I've gotten in a year.  Flowers on Valentines day and the restaurants they went to.

I want to know when it started.  I want to know when it ended.  He has tried to tell me the end, but it changes EVERY SINGLE TIME I ask.  It's like he is still so caught up in his own web of lies, that he is forgetting what he told me.

I don't ask that a lot.  I can count on one hand how many times I've asked.  But I do feel like knowing how and when it ended is important...after all...did it end?  I don't really know.

But during my February meltdown when I contacted her, she volunteered some of the ending information, without me asking AT ALL...and IT DOESN'T MATCH HIS STORY ONE BIT.  I tell him that, and he says, "She's a liar, and is telling you these lies so I will contact her and say something to her."

Maybe?  I don't know.

So here I am, a year later, and still lost, and still confused.  Every day finds me getting angrier at him, for I see him as the one who can release me from this pain by disclosing, and he doesn't.

I think he's ashamed.  I know that when I do ask, his breathing changes, he looks down, he says, "This is not the time or place to do this" even though we may be sitting in the house completely alone or in the car together with no kids around.

How much longer do I do this?  How much longer CAN I do this?

I don't know.

I'm tired.  I'm finding that more and more, all I do is sleep when I come home.  I just want to sleep.

Can I move forward with my marriage, and healing, without him opening up to me?

I don't think so.

Falling in love and car accidents

April was amazing.

That first week after him coming to the skating rink was strange.  He was never far from me, and texts and calls all throughout the day.  He was sweet and attentive.  I did not know what had changed in him, but I was happy.  I also kept one eye on him, and I found myself not really letting any walls down as I did not trust that it would turn again.

The weekend of April 9th found me wanting to get out of the house.  I told him I had found a new antique mall about an hour away, and that I was heading out.  He asked if he could come with me.  Antique malls for me are heaven.  I've nick named them "My Happy Place". Just to spend an hour or two wandering around in the past is my idea of a little slice of heaven.  

Let's just say, he has gone with me before, but he has never asked to come along.  

I said, "sure?"  And he jumped up, went into the kitchen and pulled my wedding rings out of an old milk jar I had stashed them in back in January.  He put them back on my finger, and told me he hopes I never have to take them off again.

We had an amazing day.  He held my hand the whole way there, he held my hand through the mall, he took me to dinner before we headed home.  It was such a nice day.  

We went out, just the two of us, many many times over the next few weeks.  He held my hand, he opened doors, he made me feel incredible. I was falling in love with him all over again.  Dare I say that I may not have fallen in the beginning of our relationship like I was falling now?   I can only describe it as desperate.  Something had shaken us, we almost lost each other, and we were now desperately holding on.  It wasn't hard to do.

My life was wrapped around my kids.  His life was wrapped around our company, his band, and his own life.  We had long ago lost each other.  For the first time in almost 18 years, we were paying attention to US.  Taking time for us.  We talked, we laughed, we went out constantly, we texted, we flirted, we pushed some boundaries that we had not even thought of crossing in the past.

It was amazing.   I fell in love with him. It was easy, it was fun.  It was incredible.  I was seeing this man in a whole new light.  We could not get enough of each other.  I do think though, that we were both taken by surprise by the intensity of what was happening.

April 23rd.   My youngest son was out of state, a weekend training session for scouts.  I was cleaning the kitchen and doing some household chores.  The husband was working on one of the vehicles, and he realized he needed something from the auto parts store.  He let me know he was heading out, and asked our oldest son if he wanted to go.  He told his dad he did, and asked if they could stop by one of his friends house on the way there to pick up a video game. He said yes, and then handed him the keys so he could drive.  He has his learners, and still needs an adult driving with him.

We all said goodbye to each other, and they left.

I finished cleaning and sat down for a bit.  My phone rang.  

"Can you come and pick us up by Advanced Auto?"  I'm registering what he is saying slowly... He took our Suburban, and I'm not picturing that particular vehicle breaking down.  "Why?" I asked.  "The suburban is totaled" he said.  "Come get us, he's OK, I'm OK, just drive carefully and come pick us up"

I don't remember driving there.  When I came on the scene, full of cops and emergency vehicles, all I could think about was finding my son and husband.  I ran through policemen that were standing around, one tried to hold me back, but I kept yelling my son was just in the accident.  My eyes took in the condition of the two vehicles involved, our suburban, almost beyond recognition, and a black Honda Civic, completely demolished.  My eyes took it in, but my mind couldn't comprehend what I was seeing.  No one could survive what these vehicles looked like.

I heard someone yelling out, and I realized that had to be the other person involved.  I had beaten the ambulance to the scene!  Somewhere in my mind, I could hear more sirens heading our way.  He looked alright to me, but his pants were torn, and nose was bleeding.  

I finally realized my son was sitting next to the other young man that was involved. I saw my husband a few feet away talking with police.  

The ambulance came, and took the other driver.  We got our police report, watched a bit of the clean up, and left the scene.  It was horrifying.  It's been 9 months since the accident, and I still have nightmares.   All I can say is that engineering is amazing.  Those two vehicles were completely totaled and everyone walked away.  They did what they needed to do in the accident, and that was protect those inside.  The other driver was fine, my guys were fine.  Just shaken the core.  Our Suburban was towed to a lot, and when we went to get our things out of it, I was just blown away by how many airbags had deployed, and was strangely grateful to whomever designed it to keep my guys safe inside.

That Honda hit them going around 60.  Spun it completely around, knocking it into oncoming opposite traffic.  Both drivers and passengers survived.  Amazing.

Needless to say?  It was a somber evening at our house.  Quiet.  Still.

We went to bed that night not saying much.  He laid down, and I next to him.  I had my hand on his chest, my head on his shoulder.  

To this day?  I can't remember what was said in the next few moments after we laid down.  I've been trying to remember, but can't seem to grasp it.  It seems to dance just right outside of my memory, and I can't grab it.

But I guess it doesn't matter.  Whatever he said, brought HER back into our lives.  Whatever he said that night, laying in the silent dark, I realized that he had just ended with them.  It had just ended with them recently, not January 1st like he had been telling me.  It had just recently ended.

Man... I wish I could remember!!  

I remember shaking my head, and asking about it.  His voice sounded hoarse and shaky as he answered me, saying, "Please.  Not tonight, I can't do this tonight.  I'm sore, stiff from head to toe, and can't do this tonight."

I gave him that.  I let him rest.  I did not.   My head was full of visions of the accident and the two of them together.  I tried to piece together the past 8 months.  I tried to push away the thoughts of the accident, instead trying to focus on the fact that everyone was alive and alright.  I was stuck that night. I was in hell.

The next morning, after he woke up, the madness went into full fledged insanity.  We had to go pick up our son from training that afternoon.  This will be one of my craziest days.  The next few weeks will come close, but this day starts it all.

recapping

just recapping...

Sept. 2015 - Discovered there was another woman.

October 2015 - He promises that the day I discovered them, that he dropped all communication, has not spoken or seen her.  We spend this month breaking the marriage down, piece by piece, fighting, crying, making love.

November 2015 - Same.  Breaking down a 25 year relationship.  He swears no contact still.  But is 'done' with me and our marriage.  Thanksgiving was sad and I was sure it was our last as a family.  My birthday, he was good to me. I go to doctor this month, and discover I need surgery.

December 2015 - Surgery.  He's an ass.  20 year anniversary.  He ignores me.   December 20th found him high tailing it out the door... leaves his family 5 days before Christmas.  Christmas comes, he spend the days of that Christmas weekend at our home...  But by the 28th, he's horrible again.  I pack the kids in the truck and take off for Florida for no apparent reason other than to try to survive.  What better place to survive than sitting on Daytona beach?

January 2016 - I get him to come home on Jan. 1st. He's angry, but I don't care.  He swears and promises that he did not even see her, talk to her, and there's been no contact with her since Sept.  But he's not happy, and thinks he came home too soon.

February 2016 - By the end of this month, I find out that he's a liar.  My son informs me that in the middle of December, that he brought her around him at a 'chance' meeting.  When confronted, he swears it was not planned, that it was the only time they saw each other, that it was only texting and talking, and that the day he moved back into our house, Jan. 1st, pissed her off, and that was the last he heard from her.  Swears no contact has happened, by phone, text or in person.

March 2016 - I make an appt. with a lawyer.  I've had enough, he's treating me horrible unless he's taking me to bed.  The fights have escalated to the point that he's got a busted windshield, some of his clothes are forever lost to the creek, and our kids are suffering.  He moves out again for a week...swearing it's just a break from the fighting, gives the kids a break, and states that if it's a separation that he won't leave.  There are times during this month he tries.  There are moments during this month that he lets down some walls and I can see him clear.  There are moments of kindness and love.

April 2016 - In one day, he tells me it's over, and then hunts me down and throws his arms around me.  In just one day, it's over, and he changes his mind.



Good lord... looking at that time line like that?  I'm a freaking fool that I couldn't see what was right in front of me the whole time.  I have heard that love is blind, and I think I experienced that.  I loved him.  I loved him... so I blindly believed him.  But I think my heart knew all along.  I just kept that glimmer of hope that I was wrong, I kept it.

It was like a window for me.  The window was open, small light coming through... that was my glimmer of hope.  While that light was still shining through, there was hope in my heart that he was telling the truth, that there was nothing between them.  That the only relationship they had was text and talking...that they never had a physical relationship.

The window was about to shut for me.  The truth was about to hit me like a ton of bricks.

I wonder to this day if it hit me as hard as it did because I believed him.  I believed him.

He chose us. April 2016

April started with us discussing separating.

He had moved back in to our house, but he had also moved onto the couch.  He slept there every night that week.  I have to be honest though, he would text me from the couch, late at night, and I would come down to visit him.  I wouldn't say a word, I would 'visit' and then I went back to bed.  There was something shifting in me, I could feel the broken pieces of me starting to go back together.  That break down I had the weekend before had caused a shift.

I felt a strange power in me to go 'visit' him, take control, detach myself from emotions, and then walk away without a word to him.

Friday, April 1st, he worked late.  Though he had been on the couch every night that week, we still lived under the same roof.  He didn't come home after he was supposed to be off.  He had turned "Find Friends" back on on his phone, so I checked it.  He was at a bar near where he worked on Fridays.  When he came home much later, I was angry.  I told him that it was just common courtesy while we were still under the same roof to let each other know where we were, when we might be home.

Let's face it... I thought he was with her.  Even though he swears on all that is holy that he has not spoken with or texted with her since New Years day.  So, let's be honest, I was pissed and freaking out.

April 2nd found us on the couches all day, talking about separating.  I didn't cry.  I didn't get emotional.  I was reaching the end of my rope.  I didn't understand ANYTHING he was doing to me, to us, to our marriage, to our family.  We talked about where we could live, we talked about the kids, we talked about trying to keep lawyers out of it as much as we could and be civil.

Sunday, April 3rd... We are on the couches again, not really talking.  There is a calmness in me, a strange mood has settled over me, and I actually feel somewhat strong.  There is something about having a plan, that can put the ground back under your feet.  I had a plan, we were actually talking about the future, and though we were not discussing working on the marriage, we had a plan to separate.  The unknown was no more, there was a plan.

I was looking for peace.  I wanted peace.

Our son was in the living room at one point.  There was a strange vibe around him all morning.  He looked at our son, and looked at me.  He seemed very off.  He silently nodded at my phone, and then looked at me, holding his up.  He started to text.  I picked up my phone.  He obviously wanted to talk, but not with our son in the room.

He texted me:  Are we done?

Sorry about my crude language to him, but it was honest and real... Stop fucking me if you're going to be done with me.

I held it together for about 5 minutes before I lost it.  Talking about separating, discussing living arrangements?  Through all of that, through all of the talking, he had not said he was done.  To see him say it?  In a text?  I made it about 5 minutes before I ran upstairs, threw myself across our bed, and cried.  He came up and wrapped himself around me.  He told me he loved me.  He told me he was sorry.  

I got myself together, and crawled into the shower.  I had to take the kids to a skating party, and I was going too.   I piled them and their friends into the truck and we left.  I glanced at him as I left, and I remember giving a sad smile.  I said goodbye.

We all made it into the rink, and I was actually looking forward to lacing up some roller skates and hitting the rink.  I love to skate, I am hoping it will take my mind away for a bit.

As the party was about to end, the kids were thirsty, so we rolled into the cafeteria, and got drinks.  We chatted and teased each other about skating.  I'm from the 80's!  It's what we did on weekends!  I was good, and found out I still am, but my kids not so much! We were laughing and teasing, we were hot, thirsty and getting tired.  That's when I saw my son's face change a bit, a look of confusion on his face as he was looking over my shoulder.  I looked behind me, and there he was.  He came to the rink.

I'm so confused.  I gave him a look of pure confusion.  He sat down next to our daughter, and started chatting with her.  He kept looking at me though.  I can't even begin to explain how confused I was by him being there.

I got up, got back on the rink.  Very confused.  He came over to the wall around the rink and watched me skate.  Still, I'm confused.  What in the hell is he doing here?

The party wrapped up, and we headed out to the parking lot.  He walked out with us.  He parked next to me.

Now, to explain what he said, let me tell you where it came from.  In December, our son had messed up with his girlfriend, and she was angry with him.  He needed to make it up to her, but didn't know how.  My husband told him, "Just straight up tell her, "I messed up, lets go for pizza", and through all of our drama and fighting, and crying, moving out, moving back, was there a girlfriend, wasn't there.... I would sort of tease him and say, "I'm just waiting for you to say you messed up, and let's go get pizza."  He would always give me a little smile when I said this to him.

So there, in the parking lot of the skating rink.... as I was about to climb into the truck and take the kids all home, he pulls me back and wraps his arms around me.

He hugs me hard, tight and for a long time.  I didn't hug him back right away, but I did eventually wrap my arms around him.  He buried his face in my neck, and he whispered, "I really messed up, let's go get pizza."

That's all it took.

All he had to do was put his arms around me, like that.... and I melted.  I was super confused, but it really didn't take much.

He asked to go to the grocery store with me.  He kept hugging me in the isles.  

At one point, my daughter looked at me and mouthed, "What is going on?"  I just looked at her with complete confusion.  I don't know.

I don't know.  He's like an alien.  

There's been some moments over the past months that he would let his guard down, but it's been nothing like he is doing at this moment.  He can't seem to keep his hands off of me, touching my shoulder, hugging me, arm around my waist, hands in my hair...  What is going on.

But, I'm melting.  I'm shaking my head, trying to clear it, but he's clouding everything with his kindness.  This is all it took.

We got home, and he pulled all of his blankets out for his couch bed.  I was silent.  We watched the season finale of Walking Dead together... and I just kept watching him out of the corner of my eye.  He's reaching for me, he's taking moments during the show to just touch my hand.

This is all it took.

I picked up his pillows and blankets and pointed up the stairs.  He followed.

We made love that night.  First time in a long time... he was there 100 percent, and for the first time in a very long time, he told me he loved me.  He was sad, it felt like he was drowning and I was his life raft the way held on to me.

I held on too, but I had no idea what was going on.

The next day, while at work, he sent me a text that I will never forget for the rest of my life.  Never.  His few words that he said in that text will be with me the rest of my days.

It was a surreal night.  It was an amazing morning.  But I'm spinning from the 180° he has done.  How can we start the day being 'done' and talk about separation, and end the day wrapped up in each other, and clinging for dear life?

I'm smiling... that text from him was true... I didn't give up, I fought hard.  I thought I had lost, there was nothing more that I could do.  The two minutes it took me to reply felt like years... I just stared at the words he wrote.  When I replied with, "You're mine." I realized at that moment that in 25 years, I had never called him mine.  It felt good.  It felt so good to claim this man, to let him know he's mine.  I'm his.  

I kept shaking my head that day.  Like I was trying to wake from a dream.  He texted me all day.  Little sweet things like, "I'm thinking of you" and "I love you" it went on almost all day.  I couldn't stop smiling.

But... I couldn't let my guard down either.  I felt like I was in a dream, and I was still waiting to wake up.  

April was good.  I fell in love with my husband.  I fell so completely, head over heels in love with him.  I couldn't get enough of him.  I texted, he texted.  We called each other.  He would be waiting for me on the front porch when I came home.  I fell in love with this man 25 years ago, but the man in front of me now?  I didn't know him.  This man was incredibly easy to love, and for the first time in my life, I let all the walls down around me, and let him love me. 

I don't think until this moment in our lives together, that we knew how to love each other.

What the hell was going on?

It was amazing.  

But the end of the month brought the most pain I've ever experienced in my life.  

March...and he left us AGAIN

March 2016

It's been a while.   But I remember this month like it was yesterday.

The end of February brought the knowledge that he was still talking to her through December.  He admitted they talked, only talked, through the end of December.  He said she was very angry with him when he came back home after leaving us right before Christmas.

He swore on everything he could that they didn't have a physical relationship.  He swore that it ended on Jan. 1st, when he came home.

I believed him.

But we fought.  We fought a lot.  He kept doing things that were painful, he kept me at arms length... Except in the bedroom.  We were not lacking there, and connecting like we have never before.   This was hard on me.  I loved our physical connection, but I could also tell he was still wanting to end it.

March 8th... We got into a fight in the yard.   I was so angry.  I picked up a plastic bucket and threw it at his work truck.  I wasn't thinking... It broke his windshield.  March 9th... I had made an appt. with a lawyer.  At this point, I was done.  I had been asking him to go, and he refused.  Even though I feel us parting, and separating... He will just not go.   We have begun having nights with the kids.  Even though under the same roof, Thursday's were his, Tuesday's mine... It was sad.  

I wanted advice from a lawyer, how do I proceed with separating, and how do I get him out of our house?   

I was heartbroken the day I went to see the lawyer.  The building had been sold, and it was now a law firm, but 11 years earlier, it was a real estate office, and I sat in the same room with the lawyer discussing how to divorce my husband, that I sat in 11 years before signing the papers on our first house.  

Bought a house in that room, and looking at a divorce in the same room a decade later.   I could barely breathe.

March 11th.. He asked me to go to dinner.  I went.    Remarkably?  He was sweet.  He changed almost over night.  He gave me his jacket, he held a door open for me for the first time in 25 years.   He laughed.  He held my hand.  

What was going on?  In my head, I was convinced he was just scared... If we split?  His child support and alimony was going to be significant.  Was that why he was being nice?

I didn't know... And honestly, I didn't care.  I welcomed the night, the change, the kindness.  He even told me he loved me.  It didn't last.

2 days later, he moved out again.  He left.  Again.  He packed his stuff and walked out the door.  He said that it was just a separation, a break.  He said we needed it, the fighting at this point was as bad as it could get.  I actually welcomed his absence.  I felt like I could breathe.    But he came back home a week later.  I actually wasn't ready for him to come back this time.  I was able to breathe a little.

March 25th, his band plays.  I go.  I ask him on the way there how they talked.  I didn't understand, I saw nothing on the phone bills, and I saw nothing on his phone.  I wanted to understand what app he was using to talk to her.  He refused to tell me.  We got to the venue he was playing at, and by this time, we are fighting.  He threw his phone at me, we scuffled, and he told me walk the fuck home.  We were literally in another state, but I headed out.    I made it about 7 miles away, and he got me.  The next day... Oh the next day....

I had what can only be described as a break down.  I literally felt it, something in me broke, I felt like my mind split and went crooked... There is no other way to explain it.   I cried.  I cried like I've never cried before.  I couldn't control it, I couldn't control the thoughts, the anger, the pain.  It had been almost relentless since September.  I literally could not take it any longer.   

When I came back, again, that's the only way to describe it, I felt drained and lost.  I felt physically weak.  I felt scared for myself, and my kids.  I had been all out bawling for hours.  I even picked up some broken glass that was in our barn, I had visions of just dragging it across my wrists... I wanted out.  I did not know how to hold it together.

He took the glass from me. I had lost my mind.  

I went to my family's house for Easter.  He didn't go.

April 2nd rolls around.  We are calm.  We spend that Saturday sitting on the couch in the living room discussing how we can separate.  We talk about how the kids' schedule could dictate who gets them and when.  We want to be open, friendly... We don't want to play games with the kids.   On this day, too, a friend of ours messaged him and told him she was sorry that we had separated.  I had long changed my Facebook status to separated... Lol... You know it's official when you change your status.   

He was actually a little shocked about that.  He didn't know, and I could tell as the day progressed, and the conversation about how we could separate continued, that he and I both were coming to the conclusion that it was over. 

He still swore up and down though that it had nothing to do with her, and that he had not spoked a word to her since New Year's Day.

I believed him.

Discovery Day #2.

February 23, 2016

(The timeline and dates are important to me... I'm not sure why.  Maybe I'll ask the therapist why I'm obsessed with the timeline, because I really don't know)

Tuesday evening. I'm driving home with our oldest, I've just picked him up from his girlfriends.   "Mom.   You're done with Dad, aren't you?  There's something different about you."  "I'm not sure what is going on, but I believe I'm going to ask him to move back out."  My son... my sweet son... he says, "Mom.  You deserve better.  I've talked to (my other two kids) and we all see it.  You don't deserve how he is treating you."  And after a pause, he says, "I'm proud of you."

He's proud of me.  He's proud that I want to stand up, not put up with how I'm treated, he's angry at his Dad.  I don't know how to fix any of this.  I'm heart broken that our son is proud that I might ask his Dad to leave.  

February 24, 2016

Wednesday evening.  My oldest and his girlfriend are sitting on the couch.  The husband is not home.  Band practice.   

We are all talking.  Religion, school, parties... normal teen/parent talking.   He moves next to her, very close, takes her hand.  Looks at me.  "Mom.  I have something I've been wanting to tell you, about Dad and _________, do you think you can handle it?"  My heart races and pounds in my chest, my head swims a little, and I feel out of focus.  I realize I must keep a straight face and no physical reactions.  "Sure....?"  I said.  He grabs her hand tighter, and looks at her, "Should I say it?  Should I tell her?"  He's asking his girlfriend for permission.  She must know what he's about to say, too.  He is struggling, he actually looks like he's in physical pain, his breathing is rapid, his eyes are wide.  She answers him with a shrug, she looks nervous, too.

"I have something to tell you about them."  Them?  I think... them?  How does my son know ANYTHING about 'them'.   I have to reassure him.  I'm calm, on the outside, but there is a fucking storm raging inside.  "It's alright, you can tell me anything."

"It was on a Saturday in December, the weekend before he left us.  We were at Taco Bell before ________ basketball game.  He was texting like crazy.  When we got up to leave, he said, "Hey!  _____________ is going to stop by, are you OK with that?"  Mom, I didn't know what to say, so I said, 'I guess'.  So we leave the restaurant, and pull away and park by some dumpsters, and she pulls in next to us."

My heart is pounding, but I nod at him to continue.  I don't trust my voice.

"So Dad gets out and goes to her window, and I can hear her yelling at him HOW CAN YOU BRING YOUR SON?!, so I'm snapchatting with _________(his girlfriend) and I snap a shot of them, send it to her, and tell her I can't believe he's doing this.  Dad and ________talk for a bit, and she takes off."

I nod again.  

"So Dad gets back into our truck and looks at me, and tells me not to tell you."

He describes her.  He describes her car.  I'm doing the dates in my head... it was only 4 days after my surgery, 4 days before our 20th anniversary,  8 days before he walked out on us.

I ask my son for a few more details.  He answers.  I apologize to him that that happened.  I'm FURIOUS that my husband put him in that situation. 

SERIOUSLY?  SO who does he think he is?  That's our KID.  Our CHILD.  You don't do that!!  You don't put our kid in this, and tell him to lie.

I think about the 20th... I think about when he left us, and how my son had to pick me up out of the cold gravel in the driveway.  I thought about how angry he seemed during the "break".  I thought about how upset he seemed with his Dad when we were in Florida.  I'm beyond pissed he put our son in this situation.  

Did he think he would high-five him?? Chest bump him??  Clap him on the back with respect?

So, I realize at this moment, that it was not over for them in September when I found out.  I realize that it was all a lie.  How long?  How much of a lie?  How many lies?

My head is spinning.  I can't breathe.  I hold myself together and thank him for telling me.  He looks scared, he asks me not to tell his Dad he told me.  He's actually very scared.  I know I have to bring this up to my husband, but I'm not sure how to do so, and still protect my son.   So, I look at him, and (probably make a mistake doing this, but I'm not thinking straight) and tell him that I will tell his Dad that SHE texted me and told me.

My head is spinning.  I text him.  "Your girlfriend just texted me, let me know that you have been lying, and if I wanted proof to ask my son because he was there during one of your meetings with her at Taco Bell"

I don't feel bad that I'm throwing her under the bus.  I don't feel bad at all.

He replied, "no...."

I got my keys and left.  I just drove around.  I screamed, I parked, I cried.  What the hell??

He calls me.  I answer it, he wants me to explain.  I hang up.

I'm out for several hours.  My son calls me around midnight, crying.  He said that his Dad came home, slamming crap around, stomping all over the place.  Said he came into his room and demanded he tell him what he told me.  My son tried to deny it, but then his dad got it out of him.  He wanted to know exactly what he told him...get this... so he could figure out how to make ME believe it was just a chance meeting.

That she just happened to stop by.

He tells this to our son.   Unbelievable.

I come home.  He tries to convince me that it was a chance meeting.  I stop him immediately, "Stop"  I said. "Just stop lying."

"Are you still seeing her?"

No.

"When did you stop?"

When I came back home.  She was pissed.

"Where you having sex with her?"

No.  

"I don't believe you!!!"

Just texting and talking on the phone.  

"Then WHY was she showing up at Taco Bell to see you??"

I don't know.

"You're trying to tell me that the only time you ever saw her in person, from September to December, was a quick 'hi' at Taco Bell??"

Yes

We go long into the night.  He swears they have never seen each other in person, besides those days in September.  He swears to God they are not having sex.  He swears that they never did.  He promises that their talking and texting was over on New Years Day when he moved back home.  He said he lied to her, told her that it was over between him and I, he said that she was waiting for him to be single.  He said that by moving back home, that she felt he was lying to her and she ended it.  He said she was very upset with him.  

He's doing everything he can to convince me.   I ask him about those days in September, if they were physical with each other.  No, he swears.  No.  

My stupid ass wants to believe him so bad, that I think I do.  After all... I play back the timeline obsessively!  He may have been distant, he may have been cold... but he TOOK ME TO BED ALMOST EVERY SINGLE DAY.  How COULD he be sleeping with someone else???  There's no way... so I begin to believe him....  

But, I'm broken.  Shattered.  He lied.  He lied, he lied he lied.  I don't know what to think!!  

The next morning, he leaves for work.  My son comes into my room, and told me, "Mom.  He wants to try to make it look like it was a chance meeting.  I just want you to know it wasn't.  He told me she was coming, and we pulled away and parked by dumpsters to wait for her."  I smiled at him, and told him I knew.  I knew what he was trying to do.  I'm FURIOUS at him for doing this to our son!

I told him to have a good day at school, and not worry.  He had a concert that night, and he needed to have his mind there.

I texted her.  She had recently accidentally texted me, and then immediately replied that she was sorry she had done that and would remove my number from her phone.  I would show the screen shot, but I use his name a million times in the text...

But I basically told her that she could remove my number, and she could have my lying husband.  I told her that she was getting herself a real gem, a married man with three kids who cheats.  I told her that I don't know what kind of game he's playing between us, but we had been intimate the entire time, almost daily.  I told her during his "break" that he visited my bed frequently.  I told her he was lying to both of us, and that was why I reached out to her in January.  I thanked her for lying to me about it.  

She never answered me.

I text my husband.  I tell him that he needs to delay going to work the next day, Friday, so that he can get our daughter on the bus.  He agrees.  He asks me if I'm leaving.  I say, "Yes."  He asks me, "Are you going to Kentucky?"  I said, "Yes.  I'm leaving tonight after work."  He said, "Ok..."  he sounded sad.

Kentucky is where my Dad is.  It's an 11 hour drive.  It will be a long one to start after work... but I'll find a stop somewhere in between.  I need to get away, I can't breathe.  I have to get my head wrapped around this.  What am I going to do?  

So, I'm aboard the crazy train, and we are going at a high speed...  God, I want off this ride.  

I want off this ride. 

We went south - and I got him back in the house

I told the kids to pack, we were going to go to Florida.  That's exactly what we did.

The kids were surprised, and yet seemed excited.  It was a long, long drive.  16 hours to get to where I wanted to put my feet in the sand.  I had a relative in that  area that I had not seen since my wedding, 20 years ago, so I was excited to see her, and excited to put some distance between him and I.

So I told my navigation app on my phone to get me to 95 south, and that's where we went.

I listened to music...sad, happy, hip hop, country, heavy metal, all the way down.  I have no idea what in the world is going on in South Carolina, as I was at almost a standstill during the entire state, not seeing an accident, just slow as can be.  Literally, when we hit the Georgia state line,  I was back up to normal speed.  Strange.  Anyway, finally, we arrived in Daytona, got a nice little room, and were walking in the surf in late December.

The kids were excited.  My daughter was in heaven, she loves the beach, and to be sitting on one in December was thrilling to her.  She had never seen a palm tree, and her excitement was contagious.  My teenage sons, who never think anything I do is 'cool', were excited and you could feel the tensions of the past couple of months, and the holidays, melting a way.

There is something magical about the ocean.  It's healing.  It's where I yearn to be when my soul is in shreds.

I saw a quote by JFK... it's so true, and makes so much sense.

I did what I could do to heal.  I never told anyone that I was contemplating the selfish act of putting myself and my vehicle into a tree on the previous Monday night.  I just knew that I had hit a point that I had to save myself from going any deeper into the insanity, I had to pull myself out of the dark thoughts that kept threatening to drag me under.

We didn't have much money to keep us down there for an extended time.  Only 2 days.  Only 2 days.

We sat on the beach.  We swam in the ocean.  We cooked in the little kitchenette in our room.  We slept.  We visited my Aunt.  She got to meet my children, and we spent an afternoon chatting about our family.

I would call him, and he wouldn't answer.  I would text him, and he would not text back.  He did text the kids, though.  

I cried a lot.  The kids would just look at me, lay a hand on mine, or hug me.  I tried not to, but there were times I could not stop it.

I would wake up before the sun came up, and walk down to the beach to see the sunrise.  I was always alone during this time, and it was much needed time I took for myself.  The ocean, the sunrise, the beautiful beach, it was perfect.

Sunrise on New Years Day, Ormand Beach Florida

New Years Eve was interesting.  Everyone was setting off fireworks on the beach.  We brought in the New Year in a little hotel room, with each other, and I couldn't ask for better under the circumstances.    

It was strange for me.  He and I had brought the new year in together for 25 years.  

I tried to call him during the evening, from about 7pm on.  I wanted him to talk to the kids, wish them happy new year.  But he would not answer.  Texts went unread, and undelivered.  It looks as though he has blocked me.

He does not answer my texts until 7am the next day, when he tells me that he was out with our friends the night before for New Years Eve, and he had no signal.  

Ok.  Ok...

New Years day, I woke up around 5, sat on the beach, watched a stunning sunrise.  I went back to the room and we packed up quick and hit the road to home.  He has been staying at the house while we were gone, to watch the animals.

It's a long drive, long long drive home.  16+ hours in the truck, and we get home around 1am.  When we walk in the door, he's standing in the kitchen.  He hugs the kids, and glares at me.  "You took my kids."  

?  What?

He KNEW we were going, I had to ask for money to go!  I was stunned by his anger and reaction.  

I brought some things in, and that's when I really looked at him.  He was dressed head to toe, shoes on, jacket.  I asked him, "Are you leaving again?"  

To be honest, I got him back in the house, and I was hoping he would stay.

"Yep" he said.  "But it's so late" I said.  "I've already taken my things back over to where I'm staying." he said.

There was no way he was going.  Nope.  I said, "Ok.  I'll just grab my keys and follow you."  He looked confused.  He fought me.  He said he didn't want me to make a scene there.  (He was staying with his 23 and 24 year old nephews, and a couple of their roommates)   He wouldn't leave if I was going to follow.

3am rolls around, and he finally stayed.  He went to bed, in our bed, pissed off.  Told me not to touch him.  Told me that he was leaving in the morning.  Told me he was exhausted and to leave him alone.

I didn't care. I was so excited to have him home, and in our bed.  After all, if he is not seeing her, there is no freaking reason what-so-ever that he needs to be living with a bunch of 20 year olds, and not with his family.  We need to work this out, he needs to talk to me.

We got into bed, and he turned his back to me.  But I curled around him, breathing him in, confused, but happy to not be in this big bed alone.  He turned over not long after and took me in his arms, and all that that implies.

The next day

We drank coffee together.  He hung around the house.  He talked to the kids about Florida.  He said he was sad and sort of jealous that they got to be on a beach.  He asked them if they wanted to go to the movies.  The new Star Wars movie was out.  They said yes.  I was not invited.  

They all walked out of the door together.  The kids looked at me sadly, they knew I wanted to go.  I smiled, and told them to enjoy the movie.  I reassured them I was fine.  "It's fine!  Have fun!"  smile, smile, smile.

I heard the truck doors slam, and the engine start up.  I sunk to the floor in the kitchen and cried.  Is this my life?  Is it?  I cried.  I heard the front door opening, and he walked in, he forgot something.  He saw me, and said, "I'm sorry.  I just don't want to give them false hope with all of us doing something together.  Are you alright?"  I nodded.  I said, "I understand.  I do." 

But I didn't.

When they got home that evening, he sat in his spot on the couch, and we talked a little.  I asked him if he wanted a divorce.  "No." he said.   I asked him what he was doing, then.  "I don't know." he said.  I asked if he was together with her.  "No." he said.  Then he motioned with his head to the ceiling, indicating the kids upstairs... and he says, "They don't need us to be together to be happy.  We will still be their parents."  I know, I said.  I asked him again, Do you want a divorce?  "No."  I'm so confused, I said.  Do you still consider this your home?  "Yes, it's my home." 

I'm so fucking confused by what he is saying.  If he's not with another woman, doesn't want a divorce... what the hell is he doing??  

"I'm heading out now."  he said.  "I'll get my keys, then." I said.  

And the night before repeated.  He was not leaving his family.  We will figure this out.  He is not leaving the 4 of us in this house alone.  We go back and forth for a long time, he does NOT want me to go to his nephews house.  

He finally caves.  To be honest?  He did not really fight me too hard.  He just kept trying to stop me from following him.  But, he ended up smiling, and looking at me like I was crazy.  Shaking his head, grinning.  

He said, "I will go get my things and come back."  I said, "I'll help you get your things."  He said, "I promise, I'll come back."  I said, "I'll help."  He said, "What if I take a kid with me to help, you know I will bring them back."  I agreed.

They came back 20 minutes later.  He actually seemed happy.  I swear.  He fell right back into his routines in no time at all.  I think he wanted to come back, but didn't know how, and I got him back.  He could blame me for my craziness and not feel like he caved.  

I got him back in the house.  Back in the house, back in my bed, back in my life.  He got his two week break.  I got him back in the house.

But it may have been too soon.

I'm so lost

He left Sunday, Dec. 20th.

I picked myself up out of the driveway, and told the kids to get ready to go out, we are going for lunch.

I stayed out with them as long as I could, to come home to the empty house was an excruciating thought.  But we did, eventually, and I survived it.  For them.

I went to bed, but did not sleep.  I curled around his pillow, breathing in his scent, trying to comprehend what had happened.

I sent him a text, "Doors are locked, kids are OK, wood stove stocked for the night."  He replied, "Thanks."

Monday, I had to work.  I don't remember much.  He came to pick up the boys for scouts.  I just hugged him and didn't say much to him.  Tuesday, our daughter had a instrumental concert.  He came, he sat with me and our son, and he gave me a twizzler.  He had his ring on.   Just a side note... I never saw him without his wedding band on.

Tuesday night, it was unusually warm.  Our region is crazy.  Below freezing one day, warm and barefoot the next.  After the concert, my daughter and I sat on our porch with a lighted frosty the snowman, and just made small talk and joked around.  I did everything I could to lighten the mood.

I also realized I had not shopped for the kids.  What a mess I am.

Wednesday, I went shopping.  I remember screaming in the truck till I was hoarse.  How can I do this?  How can I put this together for the kids?  How can I shop for the very first time for my children without my husband?    But I did.  I was so lost.  So fucking lost.

Thursday, Christmas eve.  I needed to clean.  I cleaned until my muscles hurt.  We had to turn on the air conditioner, it was muggy and warm.  What a strange Christmas eve... I wrapped the gifts, shopped for food.   He texted me, "I have to stop by and drop off something for the kids, and what time do you want me to come over tomorrow."  I told him not to come over that night, that he can come over Christmas.   I didn't want to see him.  I'm holding it together, and I don't want to lose it.

My daughter and I packed up the dog, he's big, and took him to the local dog-wash... a brilliant invention I must say, it sits next to the local car wash, and it's just so convenient!   When her and I returned, he was at the house.

I came in, looked at him like he was crazy, and yet was secretly happy to see him.  So happy to see him.

He spent some time with our daughter, and the boys.  I pulled him into our room to talk, and he laid on the bed with his arm over his eyes.  I asked him how he was.  Small talk.  At one point, he mumbled, "Is this where you rape me?"  I had no intention, but at that point, I did ask..."Are you two seeing each other?"  "No." he said.  "I haven't spoken to her or seen her since you found out."  I believed him.  We started flirting a little, and he was grinning and actually laughing a little.  He told me to text him later, to send him a picture.

He left, and I waited a bit.  Sent him a text, and then sent him a picture that I knew he would like.  We texted a while back and forth.  He told me he would be coming over very early, before the kids woke up for Christmas morning.  I knew what he meant.

And he did.  I heard him around 5am.. he came up the stairs as quiet as can be, and came into our room and locked the door behind him.

Christmas day was nice.  Weird, but nice.  We did presents, we were sort of normal.  But then he left again.  It rained that day.  I stood in the driveway, in the rain, watching him drive away.  He didn't want to stay for dinner.  I couldn't cook.  I stumbled into the house, fell on the couch.  I apologized to the kids, I was so sorry I couldn't seem to cook.  What a loser I am. They were OK, we ate light, and stuck to each others side.  

9pm rolls around, and I get a text from him.  It says, "I don't know how you can out do the picture you sent last night."  So, I did.  I out-did it.  But my heart was not in it, I was playing the game and trying to get him to come home.  We had an interesting texting, facetime, phone conversation for a few hours... it ended with him telling me to make sure my bedroom door was unlocked for the next morning.   He stopped by again, early.  5am.  Came in, locked the door behind him.

He spent the rest of the day at the house.  He worked on his work van, I cooked for him and brought it to him.  He enjoyed every bite, told me that I was an amazing cook, and that was the best lunch he had ever had.  He dropped little lines here and there, about the possibility of him coming home soon, he missed me, he missed the kids, he missed our animals.  I didn't push.  I just went on about my day.  Around 3, he left again.   We didn't text that night...not the way we had been.  We did talk a little, but not much.  Sunday found me looking at the Christmas tree and decorations around the house like they were my enemy.  They needed to go.

I started struggling to get the tree out of the house.  At the same time, I found myself bawling... I felt bad for the tree, I felt bad for our ruined holiday, I felt bad for my kids, I just felt bad.  While crying and dragging the tree out, he called.  He wanted to know if he could do laundry at the house.  I said, "Doesn't your place have a washer and dryer?"  "Yes" he said, "But I would like to eat lunch, watch the game while my clothes wash."  At this time, I was in the backyard, with a phone in one hand, a tree in the other, and trying to stop crying.  I can see the road from here, and I saw his van coming.  I said, "It doesn't matter what I say, I see you're almost here anyway."   He came in... I came in, crying.  He knows I cry over the tree every year, and he gathered me up in his arms, smiling a little at my ridiculousness, and hugged me tight.  Kissed me.  Told me it will be alright.

He washed his clothes.  I cooked lunch.  We watched the football game.  We made love all afternoon.    He left again around 7.  But everything was really starting to feel right.  Like we were going to be OK.

Monday, he was coming over after work to get the boys for scouts.  I made dinner, and texted him that I had dinner waiting if he wanted something before the meeting.  He said he did.  He came late though.  Freshly showered, looking amazing.  He ate real quick, gathered up the boys and left.  He was distant.  I didn't understand.  But I didn't say anything.  He came back after the meeting and asked if it was alright if he went up to see our daughter.  I waited in the living room, he brought her down with him.  He kept putting her around us, and would not be alone with me.  He refused to look at me in the eye.  I asked him what was going on, he said he didn't know what I was talking about.  I followed him out when he went to leave, and tried to engage him, he pushed me away, and drove away.

What is going on??  We had just had three amazing days, with some intensely wild intimacy, there was a good connection going on, and now he's back to keeping me at arms length, and pushing me away.   What the hell??

He left.  I sat in the living room lost.  Screw this... I picked up my keys and got in the truck.  I called him.  He wouldn't answer.  I texted him, he didn't respond.  It just said, delivered.  He wasn't reading them.  I called again.  Nothing.

I start losing it... I think he might be with her.  I go by her house.  Lights are all off, no one looks home.  I call him again.  Nothing.  I'm really losing it now... I feel used and stupid for the things I've done over the past three days, I feel lost and confused.  I don't even know where I am at this point, I've taken turns that have gotten me a little lost.  It's raining.  I'm calling, I'm texting, nothing.  I'm losing it.

I'm hyperventilating, I'm crying, I'm driving, I'm calling, I'm texting... none of this is smart.  But I think I can't do this, I can't do this pain.  Why is he doing this?  How much more can I take?  I drive past a tree... I think how easy it would be to accelerate into it.  Would I survive?  I don't want to.  I just don't want to.  I've failed at the marriage, I've failed my kids, I can't keep their family together, I don't know what the hell to do.  I can't take the pain one second longer.  The trees that are passing me start to look more inviting.

My kids, I think about them.  I can't do this.  As I start to get myself under control, I realize I could go by where he is staying.  I go... his van is there, it looks like he is there.  There are no other vehicles.  I'm just losing it.

I go home, and lay in bed.  I can't sleep.  I can't sleep at all.  I toss and turn all night, I'm so hurt, I'm destroyed, I'm pissed that I'm destroyed.  I'm pissed that I am hurt.  I'm pissed that I thought it would be easier to put my truck into a tree than to deal with what life is handing me.  I'm pissed.

I know what I'm going to do.  I have to take care of myself, and my kids.

They get up the next day, Tuesday, and I tell them they have 45 minutes to pack, we are leaving and going to go sit on a beach in Florida.

And that's what we do.

The hardest thing I've ever had to face... December

I think I've been avoiding my blog because I know December is the next part to the story.

December will never be the same for me again.  I read other blogs, and I know I will have years and years of flashbacks and triggers whenever the weather turns chilly, snow starts to fall, and the holidays become a focus.

December.

It started out OK.  I was having surgery on the 8th.  I would be put under, and it was a three hour procedure.

In November, he texted me at work.  He said, "Call your GYN.  Get on the pill, and let her know what's going on with you."   What was going on was that I was bleeding every month like a stuck pig.  It was like helter skelter.  So, I went, and turns out I had some large fibroids.  She recommended that I have them removed, and then to burn the inside of my uterus.  I asked if I could still get pregnant?  She said, "Yes, so if you want, while I'm in there, I will do a tubal ligation."  So, I agreed.  That's better than the pill, and what the heck.  Just get it all done.

So, the 8th rolls around, and in I go.  He has to take me, but I can tell he does not want to be there.  I'm scared the morning we go.  He doesn't talk to me the whole way there.  He sits next to me before I'm taken back, and he doesn't hug me, or tell me he loves me before I go.  He held out his finger, and I was allowed to just touch the tip of it.

I type this now, and it angers me.  What I didn't know that day, the day I went in for surgery, the day he seemed so freaking annoyed at me for needing to go, that I know NOW...was that it was HER birthday.

Recovery took about a week.  I was in pain, and just kind of out of it.  Around this time, it's our anniversary.  Our 20th anniversary.  He does not even wish me a happy anniversary.  He looks sad, and says, "It would be hypocritical to wish you a happy anniversary, because I know it's not."

I went out to dinner with a friend.  I was so sad.  I had looked forward to the big 20 for a long time.

One weekend, 2 weeks before Christmas, we went Christmas tree shopping.  This is a tradition that we have had for several years.  It's fun, we all argue over the tree, the boys help him cut it, our daughter just looks cute, we drink hot chocolate, we just have a blast during this tradition of ours.  But not this year.

This year...after the tree was chosen, we sat at the picnic tables.  I was sad.  But trying to smile on for the kids.  He put his arm around me, and leaned his head against my shoulder.  "I'm sorry" he said.  We both knew that this was probably the last time we would do this as a family of 5.

It was so sad.  The tree came home, and our daughter decorated it.  She tried to hang on to some spirit for all of us.

But.... I need to put out there that I didn't know why.  He just kept telling me that he was not happy, not in love, it was over for him.  But he STILL kept taking me to bed.  I couldn't buy his, "It's over." when we were connecting in the bedroom like never before.  I would ask once in a while if they had spoken or seen each other and he SWORE that it had nothing to do with her, and they had not spoken since I found out in September.

December 18th.  2 days after our anniversary... I see a tweet from her and her sister.  It says, "20 years is nothing, WE know where his heart is, especially when he sends pictures like this."  And it was some stupid picture of a marquee that said, "Don't fall in love, fall off a bridge, it hurts less."   He was at work when I saw the tweet.  I texted him, he denied it was about them, or us, or had anything to do with him and I.

(I think this is gaslighting?  When someone tries to convince you you're crazy, and makes you second guess every single thing you know to be true?)

That was a Friday.  Saturday night, I was still trying to talk about it.  He kept saying, "Not everything in the world is about you!"  So, I picked up his phone, and said, "Then let me call her and we can straighten this out."  He FLIPPED out.  We ended up in a scuffle, and I ended up on the floor.  He ended up with his phone back.

Sunday, December 20th,  he leaves early in the morning to go pick up a Christmas gift for one of the kids.  When he gets back, I was making breakfast.  I asked him, "Are you hungry?"  He said nothing.

He got in the shower.  When he got out, he still said nothing.    There was something wrong.  I could feel it.  He went upstairs to our room to get dressed.

When he came back down, he had laundry baskets packed full of his clothes, and was heading into the bathroom to get his toiletries.  I was shocked.  I felt this coming, but not before Christmas!

I cried, I howled, I tried to hang on to him.  I was a mess.  I was a mess, and I was pathetic.  He had our oldest son hold me so he could leave.  He put his things in his vehicle, and as he drove away, I collapsed.  I had grabbed one of his pillows. and I just collapsed in the driveway.  It was cold that day, very cold.  I was still in my nightgown, and there I was, laying in the cold stones on the driveway, hugging that pillow that smelled like him.

I couldn't move.  I couldn't even feel the cold.  I was never going to get up.  I wasn't even crying.. I just laid there.  My son, he said, "Mom.  Please get up.  It's cold, I can't feel my feet."  I couldn't even answer him.  I couldn't move.    He just left us, 5 days before Christmas.  He.  Just.  Left.

My son started to cry.  He said, "Mom, please please get up, your legs are bare, it's so cold, you're going to get hypothermia."  I still couldn't move.  It sounded like his voice was coming from far away.  I remember wanting to move, but I just couldn't.

He leaned down next to me and told me he was going to get his sister, and that he didn't want her to see me like this, but he would do it.

That snapped me back a little.  I remember looking at him, and working my way up.  It was the hardest thing I've ever done.  Stand up, and walk back in the house.  My legs didn't work right, and I didn't know what to do.

Shock?  Was I in shock?  I don't know.

I knew him leaving was coming, but I didn't believe it until he actually left.

He left.  5 days before Christmas... he left.  He left me, he left his kids, he left our home.

What am I going to do?

October and November after DDay

End of September:

His birthday falls at the end of September.  He did not want to celebrate it.  But I didn't think that was fair to the kids, after all, I think that the older we get, the more our birthdays become about the family around us.

I made him a cake.  I made him his favorite dinner.  We gave him some gifts.  It was quiet, and there was a sadness in the air, he is pulling away.  He is pulling away in every single way but the bedroom.  Our sex life has become insane.  It's all I can think about.  His texts to me throughout the days are erotic.  

But he will no longer say, "I love you."

"Are you talking to her?"  No.

"Did she contact you for your birthday?"  No.

There is a community event we always go to at this time of year.  We have always looked forward to it.  He wouldn't sit near me, and seemed agitated with me during the event.  All of our friends noticed.  I shrugged, I didn't understand.

"When is the last time you spoke with her?"  "The day you found out was the last time we talked."

October:

Our sons birthday is in this month.  We celebrated it much better than I would've thought.  We shopped together, we made it as special for him as we could.

We spent this month crying, talking, yelling, tearing the marriage down to the bear bones.  We spent this month analyzing everything that I've ever done wrong in this marriage.  We never talk about what he has done, or didn't do.  I'm still to be blamed.  I still know on some level that he is completely justifying what he has done.  But, yet... he maintains that he had done nothing but talk to her for 11 days in September.  That it was over the moment I contacted her.  But that the whole situation, and the fact that he spoke with her at all leads him to understand he has been unhappy in our marriage, and he is done.

But not done in the bedroom.  It's almost every single day.  It's become almost desperate between us, I can not say no.  What is wrong with me???

Halloween comes, and he actually goes out with me and our daughter.  Our boys are too old to go, but she still goes.  I tagged him on facebook as being together and trick-or-treating with our daughter.  I post a picture of our daughters silly costume.  I post it global, so it can be seen by anyone.  I probably did this on purpose...  

Even though the The Whore has blocked me on facebook, I can still see her main picture and cover picture.  We get back from trick-or-treating, and I was curious.  I looked up The Whore, and she had changed her profile picture.  She was looking off to the side, as always, and really fucking sad looking.  I wondered if she had stalked my page, seen we were all out together as a family.  I know she did.  Just as I'm watching her, I know she's watching me.  

I showed him her sad, pathetic, give-me-attention picture.  He shrugged.  I asked again, "Are you guys talking at all?"  "No.  Not since the day you found out."

I'm starting to believe him.  There is NO evidence on our records that they are talking, he lets me look at his facebook, he gives me his phone whenever I ask.  I'm starting to really believe him.  He is never home late, he is always home when he's supposed to be... I think he's telling me the truth.

I'm starting to think we have hit a time in our marriage that we need to step back and look at it.  We had been so busy with our own lives, the kids, our jobs, our families, that we had really forgotten how to be together.

November:

We have really good days in November, and we have really bad days.   By this time, I'm almost glad that it happened.  It's hard to admit that, but without him going to her, without this huge shake-up, we wouldn't be in this super analyzing of our relationship.  We have now spent more time from September to November talking about US, spending more time together, making love, fucking, whatever, than we have done in YEARS.  Probably never as much as we have been these past few months.

There are tears.  There is anger.  But I'm beginning to even forget about her.  She is not in my head as much as she was.  

He tells me what has bothered him in our marriage, and I've been fixing it.  I've realized that these were all things I wanted to for myself anyway.  Repairing family connections that had been lost.  I had a tendency to be negative, and I began to change the way I looked at things and situations, and realized I was happier.   I lost a lot of weight... hard to eat when your stomach is wrecked.  I was like a pitbull when it came to our kids, and I realized I needed to sometimes back away and let them live a little, without so much hovering from me.   

He told me, I worked on myself.   

But, he was still not happy.  He's still not saying, "I love you"  well.. sometimes he would.  Usually after having sex, or when he would leave for work.  I did not stop telling him, but it was getting harder to do, because 95% of the time he would not say it back, and it hurt like hell.  25 years, he always said it back.

Our middle child, our son, his birthday is in November.  It was good, and we pulled it together to give him a great day.  We went to dinner, gifts, cake.  Time together as a family.

Thanksgiving was horrible.  I told him that I had a feeling it was our last.  He didn't say anything.  I told him, "When we sit down as a family, I want you to look around and see what you will never have again, your children and your wife sitting around you as your family."   He didn't say anything.    We ate, we laughed, I tried to hold it together.  He caught my eye at one point, and looked at me so sad.  I looked away.  I didn't want to cry in front of the kids.  When dinner was over, he stood up and helped clear the table.  He kissed me, told me that it was delicious.  He seemed very distant, and very sad.

My birthday is at the end of November.  He took me for a bike ride, but it began to rain, so we had to cut it short.  We came home and spent the whole day wrapped up in each other, we had sex all day long, and into the night.  No talking really, no tears, just laughing, joking here and there, and being together.  He made it a good day. 

By the beginning  of December... The Whore is hardly even talked about.  I do ask periodically, "Have you spoken to her?  Seen her?"  "No."  

She's almost completely out of my mind.  She was an 11 day mistake in September... I can deal with that.  It's caused us to look at US.  Will we make it?  I don't know.  He thinks I'll never get over those 11 days, and that I will constantly throw it up in his face.  He is still telling me he is done with the marriage, but he is still taking me to bed almost every day.  I don't believe he is done.  I'm fighting harder than I've ever fought for something in my life.  My husband, my marriage, my family.

It was an overwhelming sad fall.  Christmas is coming... I have to hold it together for the kids.

Furious...at her AND him

I hate her, I do.  It's over 9 months since Dday, and shit is STILL coming at me from their affair.  4th of July weekend was a disaster.  I'm fucking losing my mind.

I fucking hate her.  I have friends in my life that tell me, "Stop.  To have ANY feelings towards her what-so-ever gives her power in your head."  Let it go, they say.  She's nothing, they tell me.

They say, "HE'S the one that did this.  HE'S the one that broke your vows, your trust, your heart, your family.  Be angry at HIM."

Oh.  I am.  Trust me.

Furious.  My anger towards him, at times, is immeasurable.  I physically shake, clench jaws and fists, I throw things, I've verbally ripped him apart for what he's done to our family.

But I love him.  As angry as I can get at times, it fades quickly.   There's been 25 years of my life loving this man.  There's been decades of memories, decades of love, building our family, raising our children, our trips, our hobbies, our life together.  He's my partner no matter what he has done.  So as angry as I get, as furious as I can be, the bottom line is, he's my husband.  He's the father of our children.  He's been my best friend, my lover, my sanctuary, my other half.

But her??  Fuck her.  FUCK.  HER.  To be honest?  I felt bad for her.  At one point in this whole fucked up mess, I felt bad for her.  This man, my husband, who I thought I knew like the back of my hand, went to this whore with a bucket of lies in his hand.  He went to her and told her his marriage was over.  He went to her with no ring on his finger.  He went to her and lied.

There was a time in November that he and I got into a huge fight.  He's on the couch, and I'm screaming at him.  I knew this woman had lost a husband in January of '15.  He went to her the first time in September.  This woman was about to face the holidays without her husband, and here's my fucking husband handing her a bunch of lies.  Deceit, lies, betrayal.. not only to me,  but to her too.  (Now, I can't believe I felt bad for her at all)

When I found out about them, 10 days into their "affair" I went right to her.  She told me she would not contact him.  That she would not fight for him.  I told her he was married, I told her she and him were destroying a marriage and a family.

So the bitch knew.  In the days after DDay, in the months after... THIS BITCH KNEW.   Every text she would send, every time she put her hands on him, every time they spoke on the phone, SHE KNEW he was married.   Whore.  What kind of fucking woman is she?  A pathetic one.

I think some of my hatred towards her is because it's easy.  I love him, I don't know her.  It's even because I feel some kind of betrayal from her... as a woman, a fellow female, I am dumbfounded that she would do this.  That she would KNOWINGLY help destroy a marriage and a family.  WHY?  What the fuck could she get out of this???

There was several more contacts between her and I in the upcoming months.  I learned the definition of narcissism from dealing with her.  I didn't even know the word until recently.

I read a lot of blogs, and haven't really found one yet that deals with the hatred of the other woman.. or at least it doesn't seem to match the anger I have for her.  I hate that she's in my head at all.  I hate that I look for her when I'm in town.  I hate that I fantasize about running into her, and what I would do.  (I probably wouldn't do a thing... but I think about it anyway)

I read about how other woman is forgiven by the betrayed wife.  I glance through the "homewreckers" on shesahomewrecker.com ... I read the comments.  Almost all of them say, "Blame the husband!!"  But... seriously... why is the mistress always a poor victim?  She's NOT.  

I hate her.  I hate her mother, who clearly didn't raise her well.  I hate her dogs, her cats, the town she lives in, the town she works in.  I hate her car, her sister, her brother.  I hate her dumbass name, I hate her fishponds.  I randomly just hate anything that surrounds her.

But I do have to say, that I'm hoping that in time, I learn to let go of any feelings at all towards her.  I do sort of realize that being this angry, is exhausting and not healthy.  I hope that in time, she becomes to me what she is....Nothing.  But that time is not today.  It's hard to begin to let go, when every other fucking day something new hits me in the gut.

I sometimes wonder if I project my anger and hatred towards her, because to do that to him, tears apart what we are trying to build.  I don't know.  I'm just fucking insane, and today?  Today I hate my life.  I can't take much more.