Hi everyone,
I’m so touched with all the support I’ve received ever since my last post. With the holidays, and spending as much time together as a family not to mention the typical day to day business, I just never have time to reply to everyone’s comments. Know that I appreciate all your support and comforting words on mine and Not Over It’s blog. I love you all. Will be back soon.
Be very careful what you wish for. For me, one wish was fulfilled but what came along with it was a whole lot of hurt and pain. As a Betrayed Spouse, all I ever wanted was the truth, the WHOLE truth and nothing left unturned. I wanted to know anything and everything about the Affair. And for months and months, my husband and I have been communicating through email in regards to getting all those details out in the open. I wanted to know his thoughts and when I was at a loss, I tried to make sense of things in the emails I’ve written to him. In return, he has expressed many things over these months which have helped me tremendously (but also hurt like a son of a bitch). Rather than rewriting everything again, it would be easier to just show you our emails. I’ll start with one of my respond emails that not only made him left work early that day but also made him stay home for the next 4 days.
(2 years and 8 months after D-Day)
This is everything. Nothing else hidden. No excuses. First let me say that I love my life with you. If you decide to never speak to me again, I would be devastated, but understanding. While I may never recover from this whole thing, if this is what you need to move on then I have to do this.
I don’t know what we have already talked about and what will come up in the future, so I will tell as much as I remember.
This whole thing started after the layoffs. We started talking too much about personal feeling and I think that we both felt sorry for each other. She had been taken advantage of and I had a lot of problems. I shared way too much and should never have trusted anyone but you with the information that I shared with her. When I first went to her place I wasn’t afraid, I was upset with my life and was willing to throw our marriage away to try and give me an excuse to live. The truth is, it really could have been anyone. I regret that I had to involve another person in this, but once it started there was no going back. I went to her place a couple of times and that was it. We still were very close at work though. Having lunch, getting coffee, happy hours, we were still talking way too much. I was getting life advice from someone that wanted to be a major part of my life. The sex was not good, that isn’t the reason I went back. It was just different to not have someone so disappointed in me that they would verbally say that I had to do it again because they weren’t satisfied. I was humiliated enough at home, that I thought that something was seriously the matter with me. I was tired of other people talking about their sex lives and just the importance of sex and I treated sex like a chore.
After the HPV diagnosis I told her. She was upset and that was the end of things. She got checked and her doctor said that she was clean. From then on, she fought to convince me that you made up the HPV thing to try and get me back. We stopped talking for a while. I didn’t have anything to say. I was supposed to make a choice whether I wanted to work on our marriage or not. I had to decide if I believed that you were now willing to change and work on us or pick a life where I had to start over with this mistake. In many ways, it would have been easy to just start all over, but we had so much past that is more than I could ever ignore. I couldn’t see her inserted into my life in any way shape or form and I couldn’t see myself inserted into her life. But it didn’t end there.
(The diagnosis that changed EVERYTHING. D-Day happened following an appointment with my doctor and I was over the moon when I told my husband that we can still try for a baby. I assume his guilt made him confessed. And what a pathetic, desperate shit excuse of a woman… I never knew she was this callow and weak until now)
I don’t know dates or when things happen, believe me when I tell you that I have vague recollections at best of that time. My head was swimming in problems and constantly trying to figure out what to do in my personal life while trying to look like nothing is wrong at work was killing me. When you went to S*** B****, I was destroyed. (We separated as he had believed it was what we needed and I chose to leave instead) I don’t know why I called her. But she showed up after I was there. I drank a lot that night. Way more than I ever had. I don’t remember the concert or leaving. Just her taking me to my car the next day. I don’t remember talking to her on the way back to my car. In a way, I was happy that I found a way to forget things. But I wasn’t happy to be with her at the moment. I didn’t want to be leading anyone on. I really wanted to be left alone. I just needed a person to talk things over with and my circle of people consisted of her and you. I never had any friends to help me with anything. I kept calling her and she would always show up, even if I didn’t ask for her to. This is why I was always around her, it is because she put herself wherever I was. I shouldn’t have let her, but I really thought that I could trust that I could talk and that would be it.
At some point in the week after, I just started feeling like nothing would ever get better. Talking with my mother, my father, K, her. Everyone said that if I was happy during the separation, then maybe that it was best. I felt free, but I still cried every night for the life that I wanted before. I still wanted to be free with a person that knew who they were and what they wanted. You didn’t seem to know anything except that you wanted me. She didn’t seem like she wanted anything but me. I was confused. And that day when I was supposed to make a decision. I think that I let it all get to me to the point of me not being able to say anything. I was completely speechless. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t say it.
(This is when, at 6 weeks after D-Day and 2 weeks of separation, he had finally decided that he didn’t want to work on our marriage and that he didn’t believe we had any future together. I was crushed and made plans to go on with my life)
After that night I started drinking regularly. It helped me sleep. I couldn’t deal with myself. Sleeping after drinking tuned everything out. This went on daily until you sent that email. (The Tuesday following the break-up, I emailed her, cc-ing my husband and some of his close co-worker friends, thanking her for destroying my marriage and telling everyone that my husband and I were over) I had been going home alone every night from that point on. I didn’t want her. We were officially separated and that is when I was slipping from her as well. When you sent that email, I was thinking of how I could somehow make things work with us. But that email and her reaction to it at work, it made me somehow feel sorry for her. I don’t know why. She deserved it, but I don’t know what I was thinking. I called L and talked to him about what was going on in my head. L thought it best to let you go and cool down for a while and see if things themselves out in the future. I didn’t know what to do or where I stood. I figured that my job was gone after that. Everyone would know and being a disruption would be the end of my job. It wasn’t. I shouldn’t have cared about my job or the people there. Now it seems so foolish.
When I said that I was at a low when I had sex with her at our home. I honestly was at a low. I thought that I had lost you forever and she had shown up out of the blue, because I hadn’t talked to her in a couple of days and she wanted to see where I stood with her. I was the one crying my eyes out in her car, not the other way around. I wasn’t crying for her, but for you. I was crying to her about you. Somehow she had to use the restroom and it just happened as she was about to leave. I didn’t want to do it. It wasn’t romantic or anything. I did it and just sent her out the door. I knew that it was the end. I knew that there was no feelings for her in that way. I messed up. She should have just remained friends. I knew it, but she swore that we were meant for each other.
(Nope, this wasn’t what broke me. It had taken me a while to finally confront him about sex at our home, but I already had nagging suspicions about them.)
Shortly after that you moved back in. That Monday that I had to talk to her happened. I went to her house and nothing happened but talking and crying. The next couple of weeks were really hard at work. She was clearly disturbed. Not just in an upset way. Like really disturbed. I was talking to P a lot at that point. I didn’t know what to do, but I had to do something. I didn’t want her to hurt herself o somehow show up at our house and do something stupid. A couple weeks after we started just dealing with each other at work again. This went on for a couple of weeks and back to not speaking and then back again. Once I was blogging, we never really spoke. I don’t know why or how it all got started, but I never expected her to start blogging as well. When I stopped blogging she got upset. And the disturbed side of her came out. I didn’t want anything bad to happen and all of that talk of hope wasn’t really direct at making her think that she had a chance with me, but that things weren’t so bad in her life that she can’t move on and that life would get better. I was still trying to cushion her suffering. I felt bad for dragging her into the mess with me. I felt guilty to both of you because I wasn’t man enough to deal with my problems before they became monumental issues.
I booked the trip to Europe to have a date that I would come back home and start fresh. I just needed to be away from you, to let you deal with being at home and know that I wasn’t “with” her. I needed to get away from her, so she can grieve or do whatever she needed to do while I wasn’t there every day and start fresh. Before I left, she tried hard to plead her case. She wanted me to take her with me. She said that the London trip should have been for her and I. (What a PSYCHO) I knew that she wasn’t right. I met with her in her car before I my last day in town. She drove around and pleaded me to admit that I never had feelings for her and that she meant nothing to me, that everything I ever said was a lie. She was screaming and she drove me to her place. Against my better judgment I went up and thought this is what I had to do to make this craziness end. If I could just make her know that I feel nothing for her, this failed final attempt to keep me and my going away would seal this whole affair forever. It was like burying a body hoping that it was go away forever, but I knew that it would never stay buried. I had sex with her and I told her that this was the end. But she wanted to make it seem like nothing so she wanted me to talk to her from London, as if all was ok. Until the day that I returned and then it would be over. I agreed, if only to make this go away. I needed some assurance that this was going to end and she said agreed. I was so afraid that she was be so distraught that she would try to continue winning me over so I did whatever she wanted me to until this. My return from Europe was my line in the sand. I couldn’t do it anymore.
(And BAM. There it is. He had sex with her 3 whole months after we had reconciled. He knew he wasn’t even supposed to talk to her much less do that, of all things, THAT. The whole time I thought that he was being true to me. When I read this, my heart was ripped out once again by the man I love.)
I went away on the trip, I wrote her, 2 emails. But I think I only sent one. I had purchased a card for her with a long-winded goodbye. But I ripped it up and threw it in the trash. Because I knew that she was a mistake and I didn’t want any more connections to her.
I came back from the trip and everything was as planned. Her and I never spoke. We were officially done and she was keeping with her end of the bargain. Until you found the emails and started questioning everything. You had every right to. I did wrong, continually. I owed you explanations. I got so upset then, because now that I finally got her away and out of my life, yes we work in the same building but I don’t deal with her at all anymore, now you find things that have you questioning the past as well as the present. I have to pay for what I did to you, but I was so sure that everything that I had tried had finally paid off, in the form of cutting her loose and still keeping my job, had worked up until then. I didn’t want to do things and cover them up. I just wanted her to go away and leave me alone for good. At the time, I didn’t feel I could do that unless I played along. I really should have left my job, but I wasn’t listening to any sort of reason.
From then until now, we don’t speak directly to one another. There is no need to. I realize now that it wasn’t HER, it was the guilt that made me go back to her. It wasn’t the guilt that made me stay with you. It was you that made me stay with you. It was the fear of her intervening with us that made me do horrible things. I had already done the sin, I didn’t think that it would be any worse if I did it once more if it meant that she would leave me alone forever. There was no hugs or kisses after my return. There was nothing.
If this is the final letter that you ever read from me. If you decided that this has pushed you over the edge and I am not worth your time. Just know that I love you more than anything and in the last 2 years, I haven’t been more proud to be with you and have you share my life’s ups and downs. Through all of this you have shown me what true strength is and I admire you so much for how you handled everything that I put you through. I promise you that I will respect your decision, whatever it may be. I will love you whether you are with me or if you chose to cut me loose. This is not the man that I want (our baby) to know. I don’t respect that man and I don’t think that that person exists any more. Know that if you chose to keep me in your life as your husband, I will do whatever it takes to fix the wrongs of my past.
Would I have married you if we would have waited 2 more years to get married? Yes. I would think that I would have probably followed through with the music business and you would have secured a career designing things. We would have found individual selves before trying to build a union on an unsteady base. I think that we got off to a rough start. It was a 12 year rough start.
I didn’t proofread this and I barely remember many details while typing but I hope that it could give you some closure as far as she is concerned. I hope that this doesn’t cause further closure as far as we are concerned. I know that we can make it, but only if we both are working together. If not, please don’t disappear on me. I don’t deserve to ask anything of you. I just don’t want to come home to find you gone from my life forever.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
That day to me, was the second D-Day. As I’ve told him many times since the discovery, if I had known about it then, I would have left him immediately. That I know for sure. We could have ended up back together again later on, or not at all, but I know I wouldn’t have wanted to be with someone who could betray me that deeply once again. I also wrote that if I didn’t have a baby to take care of after reading the letter, I would have packed my bags and leave. Not necessarily for good but I just needed to get away. For the next 3 weeks or so, there was a tremendous amount of hurting and crying at every alone time I get. But I didn’t want to cry in front of him; I just didn’t want to deal with him while I was in pain. I just wanted to feel the hurt all by myself. It made me question him, us, our reconciliation, and everything we have right now, the good and bad.
However, as gut wrenching as that email was (or revelations as I call it), this is undoubtedly something I needed from him. It was about 2 years too late but would we be where we are right now if he had revealed everything then? I am not too sure about that. And that made me feel even more sad as the birth of our precious son could have been erased because of that stupid thing he had done. It is such a depressing thought. Even though I have sadness inside and still hurting at times, I believe that this is one of the things I need most to move on. I feel that the worst is now behind us and we are truly getting a true chance at a new beginning.
Well, so much more to say but so little time… I’d like to wish everyone a happier holidays with less hurting, less obsessing, less regrets, less negativity and other painful things we Betrayed Spouses have to go through and hopefully they stay away for good even after the holidays. Until next time, take care everyone.
Peace and Love.
The other night I was having a difficult time trying to fall asleep, as I do on most nights. I was having sad thoughts and flashbacks of that past, as I do on most nights. However, for some reason, I was trying hard to remember if they had sex on the bed, the very bed that my husband and I are sleeping in every night. He had told me that they had sex on the sofa downstairs but I swore that I have read that she had been in his bed. The thoughts keep pounding in my mind and I struggled so much before deciding to read what she had written. When both my husband and her blog was active back then, I kept a digital copy of their daily writings. It was hard enough to read about what was written at times, but I knew I needed to keep evidence of this. I had also made sure I printed a copy of her pathetic and desperate blog every time she posted something new.
Knowing that I have a copy of her blog, I gave in. I know that I will never destroy what evidence I have but for the first time, in a long long time, I opened the document. And alas, I knew I was right. “I can remember staying in your bed and not wanting to go home. I can remember all the things we did there and how we watched TV and drank that horrible wine” was what she wrote. I am trying not to have a heart attack as I am writing it. Why in the hell did I do this? I’m sure I’m not the only one, so why do we do this to ourselves?? If only I am made of money, I would burn the fucking mattress; and the sofa too just for the hell of it.
Well, I did find what I was looking for and it confirmed my gut feeling. But it made me feel like shit. Going through her blog had unearthed all those horrible and disgusting feelings and I felt like I just want to confront her at work and make her leave her job ASAP. Why couldn’t I just stayed away from the past? I am still weak, mentally. In that moment when it’s dark and silent, I feel the worst. Even though I do cry less and less, my mind is still haunted and spinning like mad. I know there are things I can do to stop my mind from going there, but at the moment, I don’t have the strength to find it and I just want to wallow in my pain.
Fighterandsurvivor's Blog 