Hope having an affair with a married man was worth inviting a crazy wife into your life

*Warning*  There's A LOT of F bombs in this entry.  I also know that at my age, my interactions with her are immature, they come from anger and pain, I'm lashing out.  I know there are many that don't believe in contacting the affair partner at all, but that person is not me.

I do wonder if I feel a betrayal from her.  I feel like I contacted her TWICE, and both times she lied, and both times she acted like nothing was going on with them.  If she had just turned him away, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to cheat with her.

I feel like I need to get over this part.

I feel like I'm needing my blog NOW, in the present to do a bit of writing, releasing, and trying to figure it all out.  And some venting. Boy, do I need some present day venting.

I can't go out of order though... lol!

I woke up that morning, and while we were having coffee, I asked.  I asked, "Did it just recently end with you two?"

"I don't know"

What do you mean, you don't know??  This answer makes my head spin.  I put it more simple, "Did you still talk to her, or see her, or text with her after Jan. 1st?"
"Yes."

I have to baby step him to answering that they were still communicating through March.  April 3rd is when he came for me.  I asked him if he saw her in person.

"No."    But I know.  I know he's lying.

"It's just texting and talking on the phone?"  "Yes."

I know he's lying.

I'm furious.  I get in the car, and leave.  Take a drive.  He texts me, "I love you, let's get that hot tub you want, come home..."

I pull into a parking lot, and using the Notes app on my phone, I type out a nasty letter to her.  I know she has an android, so I want my text to her to be complete, and not broken up into several different texts.

I'm furious.  At this time in the discovery of his affair, I'm full on blaming her.  I'm full on hating her and totally blaming everything on her.

(Side note:  A year later, I'm definitely still angry at her, but not like I was, and YES... I blame him more.  He did this.)

I don't send it right away.  I'm actually not really planning to send it. It felt a little bit cathartic just to type it out.

We get in the car to head north to pick up our son.  Now I have him...He can't leave, he can't run out the door, he can't avoid me.  He has to sit next to me for almost 3 hours.  He's mine.

On the drive, he admits ONLY to talking and texting.  He continues to hold strong that he was home alone on New Years eve.  I asked four thousand times about New Years Eve. He swears he wasn't with her the two weeks he moved out in December, SWEARS and promises he didn't see her in person at all.

 I ask a million questions about her.  I had seen her social media, before she blocked me, and she very much likes to play a little mousy victim.  I said that to him, "She's a damn mouse."  (I'm more of a velociraptor... mice piss me off)  He mumbled, "She's no mouse.  She's 6 foot tall."  I said, "I meant more of the way she acts." But then it hits me what he said.  I said, "What?  6ft?!  You're 5'6!!  You would never let me wear heels because I would be taller than you!  WTF?!"  He didn't say anything.

I asked about certain dates and days again, asking if he had seen her.  I just don't believe that they didn't see each other in person.  He continues to tell me they only saw each other 2 times, once 5 days into their affair when he went to her house, and 1 time when he had her show up at Taco Bell with our son in the car.

He SWEARS it was only an emotional connection over text and phone. I said, "FINE.  Let me text her and ask her."

He says, "IF YOU TEXT HER, I WILL CANCEL YOUR PHONE THE MINUTE WE GET BACK HOME."  He's screaming like a fool.  We are yelling at each other, fighting hard.  We pull into a McDonald's, and as I was getting out, I was shaking hard.  I told him I had quite a bit to say to her too, and was going to text her.  He yelled, "I just don't give a fuck anymore!!  Go ahead!  I don't care!"

So I did.  I sent my angry letter from that morning.  I was so furious at them, I wanted a divorce right then and there, that moment, that second.  I was insane.

(When I texted her all the way back in September, the first time, she went crying to him that I texted her.)

Yes.  She's looking for her 4th husband.  She's 45 years old.  Her maiden name is our last name.  I asked him if she thought it was some kind of fate that they shared the last name.  He said, "She told me that she would never go back to that name because she has Daddy issues."

I'm so immature.

Anyway... she sends me a nasty reply and then she CALLS him right away.  He doesn't answer, and he doesn't listen to the voicemail she leaves.

I'm shaking.  I can't breathe, I don't even know what I'm saying back to her.  I'm just a mess.  I sort of remember his face, he's driving, he's looking ahead, he's looking worried.  I'm not even saying anything out loud at this point, I'm just texting her and having a mini stroke.  The adrenaline was off the charts.

I don't usually talk like this.  Just saying.

Needless to say, none of that is true.  When she said what she did about me and my kids not being his, and I've cheated on him?  I was dumbfounded.  Did he actually say that to her?  Did he go to her and tell her these horrible lies as some kind of excuse to make himself look like the poor cheated on husband who has done no wrong?  To get her to feel better about what SHE was doing?

Oh...the wife is a whore, poor guy...here, let me make you feel better?

I don't know.  He swears to this day he didn't say any of that to her.  I'm still floored to this day over this.  

Funny how they both told me within minutes of each other how tall she was.  It's not like I have anything against tall women... it's just that he's on the short side, and he's always had a little bit of a complex over it.  To choose a woman that is half a foot taller still leaves me shaking my head.

We arrived early to pick up our son.  I'm dying, sitting next to him.  I'm yelling, I'm crying, I'm laughing... I'm pretty sure I've gone mad.

He listens to the voicemail, I can hear through his phone that she's yelling.

She tells him that he needs to get control of me, and that none of this is her fault.

We picked up our son, and went home.  I was in a strange, strange mood.  I felt like I had circled my wagons around my husband, my kids, my life.  I viewed her as the enemy, I hated her.  She was the enemy.

The sex that night was off the charts.  I'm truly feeling insane at this point, like something inside me has slipped off it's track.

I'm still not back on it.

Her and I are not done.  We have another go at it the next day.

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.

I took a day for myself...

I got home that Thursday evening after work, and I went right into my room and started packing for the weekend.

He was home.  I didn't say a word.

10 minutes or so passed as I rushed around the house packing a quick bag.  I was standing by our bed, gathering charger cords and other items I wanted to take, when he walked in.

"You're really going to Kentucky tonight?"

Yes.

"It's a long drive.  Will you stay over somewhere tonight?"

Yes.

"You don't have to go, you know."

Yes, I do.

He looked at me.  He looked so sad.  He looked broken.  It's strange, but he looked more broken than I felt.  I felt numb.

I brushed past him for something out of my dresser.  He grabbed me, held on tight.  Long, gripping hug.  I did hug him back.  I held on, I held on like I was drowning.  He whispered, "I'm sorry" into my neck.

I broke the hug and picked up my bag, and got in my car.

It was cold.  I had the heat on, and music off.  I needed silence.  My destination for the evening was to reach Interstate 81, and then find a place to stay somewhere along that long long stretch of highway.  To get to 81, I needed to go through some mountains.  

It started snowing the minute I reached the mountain roads I had to travel through.  I couldn't believe it.  It wasnt supposed to snow at all.  It was heavy, coming down thick and heavy with some large crazy snowflakes.  I felt like I was in an early 90's screen saver.

I reached the highway that would take me to the interstate.  I ended up behind a big 18 wheeler.  The snow, the height of his truck... I totally passed my 81 exit by almost  25 miles.  I was a little freaked out, driving in a car (I'm used to a truck) the snow, not knowing where in the world I was... I saw a sign for a hotel.

I pulled in.  I sort of knew the town, I was safe.  I asked for a room.  I fell down on the bed and slept.  Slept like a rock.  Heavy, deep, amazing sleep.   Check out was 11am, but I had hoped to be on the road by 5am.

I slept until 10:30.  I checked out at 10:59.

For the first time in my entire life, I was alone.  No one knew where I was.  No one.  Not my husband, my kids, my Dad, my family, my friends...No one.

This felt amazing.  I felt like I could breathe.  I asked the desk clerk if there were any antique stores in the area, and she gave me a list.

I spent the day in some country town, in the middle of no where, crawling through antique stores.

It was heaven.  I took some time for myself.  Whenever I thought about him....and her.... my heart would slam against my ribs, and I would feel dizzy... So I didn't think about them.   I just did something for myself for a while.

I have never taken a minute, let alone, a day for myself like that.

I think I'll always treasure that day.  Always.  I think everyone should take a day, and just do for themselves.  It's alright.  

Late afternoon rolled around.  I started feeling anxious.  My chest hurt when I thought of them.  He called me.  I didn't answer.  I didn't want to hear his voice.

He called again and again.   I knew I was going to head home instead of Kentucky at this point... So I finally answered.  "Where are you?!"  He demanded.  I said, "I'm on my way home, I don't feel good.."  I didn't.  My adrenaline was high, I couldn't seem to calm myself, I had chest pains.  He seemed concerned... But I didn't really care.  I didn't want to hear his voice, I didn't want to go home, I didn't want to see him.

But I went home.  

That was the end of February.    

I figured that was the end of us, too.

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.