Today is all I can look at. I think of yesterday and the days before, but looking forward to the future is an impossibility. It gives me panic feelings and I don’t want to go there again. I remember thinking that my marriage would be like that of my grandparents. Long lasting, happy, forever. It’s amazing how, in a 14 year marriage of a 20 year relationship, 9 months could change everything. That’s how long they lasted. That’s how long my husband loved another woman. 9 months is how long he made plans to live a life with her, tried to escape his life with me, and forgot what it was like to have real responsibilities. Those 9 months, and really me finding out about them, feel like the unraveling of a sweater, leaving me naked. I feel so insecure and so unsure.
My husband is the first long term relationship I ever maintained. Before him, my longest relationship was, ironically now, 9 months. I stayed with the first guy I ever slept with based on that fantasy of being with that “first” guy and getting married to him and that childhood delusion. I only slept with 2 men before my husband. When I met my husband, I literally knew I was going to be with him forever. I remember when we first started dating and I had so much relief knowing that I had found the one that I wanted to be with, forever. And now forever seems like such a fallacy. It seems like a farce.
We are still married, for now. So, the possibility of forever still exists, but is it still real? We don’t really have forever now, do we? We have then and now, but in between, we had nothing. He had her, and his life that he was creating with her, and I had the life that I thought I was building with him. Clearly, I was severely mistaken. Those 9 months that he had with her detract so much from the time that we had before her. All that time seems like lies, too. I thought we were happy once. I knew we were struggling to maintain our relationship. But, I just assumed it was how things go in a marriage, with 3 kids, work, home, life, all kicking you in the butt daily. I even told a therapist that we just had to struggle through until our youngest child was off to college or other things and then we could find our way back to one another. Which, in and of itself, makes me feel so stupid. I’m over here patiently waiting for our time to come back around and he’s out screwing his girlfriend.
The roller coaster of emotions is exhausting. Yesterday was hard. I was sad. I feel constantly manipulated by him. How do I know that this person is who he actually is? I look back at the times that he was lying to me and it was so easy, so effortless. He said he needed more attention and apparently the whore was his way to get it. I needed attention, too. I needed help, I needed my husband, I needed my parenting partner, I needed him to hear me when I told him over and over how lonely I was. But, he didn’t give a shit about me at that point. He had her. He had the fantasy that he was living that didn’t include the responsibility of his wife, his kids, his home, bills, laundry, keeping the house clean, helping with homework, emotionally supporting ANYone in the family, or being the person he said he was.
I cry. A lot. I never know what the trigger is, I just know the end result is the flood of thoughts that all involve his deceit and his betrayal. I think about how I wasn’t enough. How I failed. How stupid I am to stay? To believe any thing that he says? Who is he? He isn’t who I thought he was. He isn’t who I married. So, now I have to get to know this person, for who he truly is, and try to decide if I want to stay married to him, knowing that he did this horrible, seemingly unforgivable, thing.
The scales seem so off balance. It seems like so much more of the weight is on me than on him. I feel like I am the one begging for his attention, for his love, for him to stay. Shouldn’t he be the one working harder, not subtle things that people do in a marriage to keep each other happy. But some grand gesture, some level of courtship or wooing? All I want, more than anything in this whole situation right now, is to just feel like he is sorry. He is so detached and shut off and absent, that he is emotionally void. The only emotion he projects is anger. I want sorrow, I want regret, I want to feel like he understands what he did to me, to us, to our family. I don’t know if this is repairable. I don’t know where I stand. My fear and insecurity overwhelm me constantly. I never want to feel like this again.