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That is how everything seems right now.
My mood is darker these past couple of days. In many ways, I feel more sadness, sorrow and emptiness now than I did the first couple of weeks after the affair ended. Maybe it is just the reality of the finality of it all sinking in deeper.
Last night I went for my daily run. I like to do it at night, after the children are all tucked in bed and I can finally exhale and know that I’ve made it through one more day.
The other benefit to running at night is that no one can see me crying.
I usually cry during some part of my run. Last night I cried through all of it and again when I finished. I was doing my stretches and ended up laying in the grass staring into the sky and sobbing. I cried as I fell asleep…
I talk to him. I tell him how I feel. He doesn’t hear it. But it helps for that moment. It’s just another one of my coping mechanisms.
I feel as though I am a broken record these days. “Blah blah blah WHINE blah blah blah SAD blah blah blah MISS HIM blah blah blah REGRET blah blah blah DUMB ASS blah blah blah…“
I have the same record playing over and over in my mind. Can’t figure out how to shut it up.
On top of that, it’s not as though I’m the first person to ever feel like this… These feelings aren’t that unique. And I won’t be the last to feel them either…
Some quotes I found and my thoughts on each:
“Don’t ever give up on something or someone that you can’t go a full day without thinking about.”
I know this feeling well. But maybe it’s just insanity. I guess the operative word in this quote is FULL. If I can silence this broken record for part of the day, then maybe I can give up this notion.
“The greatest pain that comes from love is loving someone you can never have.”
Any of us in an affair know this feeling well. Unless you are one of the rare ones who can just keep it about sex. He was never mine. Never would have been either. Yet I still love(d) him.
This is the feeling I’m waiting for – that beauty that will come from loving the right person, instead of Mr. Unavailable Cakeman.
Once again I’m going to address the stupid note I’ve mentioned before (here and here). As I’ve said before, I tried to end it. When I did, I told him that it made no sense for me to say I cared about him (he knew my feelings were headed towards being in love with him) and stay in an affair with him. I really loved him. And I KNEW I had to let him go BECAUSE of that. I was willing to try and walk away and pretend that I was ok doing so. Unfortunately, that only lasted 24 hours. Hence me writing that one line note to his wife.
Again — I love(d) him. I wanted to stay with him. But I also knew that he would never love me back if he was feeling guilty about not working on his marriage properly. I guess it became clear that I’d rather love him and have him hate me and be happy in his marriage than to love him and know that he wasn’t happy in any place.
Sound selfless? Maybe. But I’ve spent every day since wishing for another chance to make a different decision.
Love sucks.
I’m glad that I did let him know how I felt. Maybe one day when things have settled down for him, he’ll be able to see that what I did really was backed up with love.
“Moving on, is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.”
ok – moving on is hard too. But I suppose it is because of what I’m leaving behind. Not what lies ahead.
I have questioned myself a couple of times about whether I did love him or not. And the answer is still yes – yes, I did. Even after realizing some of what I had willingly overlooked about him before, I don’t doubt that I loved him.
“One of the hardest things in life is watching the person you love, love someone else.”
Self explanatory…
“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves – regret for the past and fear of the future.”
I think most of us who who have been on any side of an affair are caught in this web. I can’t say I’m fearful of the future, per se. But each day that passes means he’s further and further from me and from being a part of my life. And that still makes me really lonely.
“Until this moment, I never understood how hard it was to lose something you never had.”
Again – self explanatory. He was never mine. He was always hers. I was just a side dish.
I’m spending a lot of time zoning out today. Just staring. Feeling blah. Depressed again. Not sure why.
Melinda asked a good question in the comments of this post. She asked: “Given what you now know, would you take him back?“.
Let me first say that the chances of me even being offered that opportunity are NEGATIVE 5000%. BUT, if, by some miracle I were given the chance? I’d take him back. In my stronger moments, I like to think that I’d tell him “Only if you are single”.
I was out with a mutual friend of ours last night. Granted, he hasn’t seen my xMM in years. But he has met his wife, and says there is no way that he is happy with her. That gave me a fleeting moment of happiness. Yet we all know what people are willing to continue living through – for any given reason.
Maybe one day I can confidently give a hearty “HELL NO!” to anyone who asks Melinda’s question to me. I just don’t think it will be anytime soon.
Yesterday was the first semi-normal day I’ve had in a long time. I wasn’t feeling my best physically, but emotionally I did pretty well. I didn’t cry. I didn’t catch myself zoning out and staring into space. I didn’t obsessively check my cell.
But today, I find myself once again trying to shake off the feeling that I was disposable. Struggling with the feeling of emptiness. Regret. Missing him.
Why can’t I shake the thought that everything is just honky-dory for him? And as each day ticks by, with no contact, I know that there will never be another word from him.
Those of you who are seeing it from the “wayward” or “betrayed” spouse side of things probably can read that and say “Well good. That’s how it SHOULD be!!” And my brain agrees. But my heart is still trying to come to terms with that.
The more time distances me from him, the more clearly I can see things. But emotions are a crazy thing and can’t be easily silenced. Emotions are what I’ve been running on for the last four months.
I don’t really have a point to any of this… I just have a lot swirling in my head this morning and an icky sense of things that I can’t shake. Now, I find myself obsessed with letting him know what an ASSHOLE I’m beginning to see him as, rather than obsessing over us. But maybe one is just a ploy to cover up the other.
I had thought that I would write at times about the actual affair… however, the details of the affair hurt too much to rehash. I’ve tried to file all of that safely away.
What I don’t understand is how I can miss someone so damn much that I didn’t see much of. And how I can see him all around my house, even though he was never here.
I can find some sort of association with him in everything.
Walk the kids to the school bus: he used to ride a _______ County school bus.
Drive through town: he used to drive these streets.
Flipping through tv channels: he hates that show… or loved this one…
Watching the local metro area news: there’s his town
Stupid crap like that messes with me.
We had so much in common, from the kinds of ice cream we liked to the movie lines that we could quote. We grew up in the same town; went to the same middle and high school; so many of the same experiences… On and on the parallels go, so it’s easy to see him in everything.
The movie “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is about a couple who undergo a procedure to erase all memories of their relationship together. I’d give anything to do the same.
Today is not a good day.
My head knew that I wouldn’t get a reply to my apology letter. My head didn’t even want him to.
But my heart wanted him to.
In my heart, I wanted him to show up at my doorstep. Or to pull up beside me while I was out running. Something. Anything to let me know that I meant something.
That is the struggle we all are dealing with, isn’t it? Does it all boil down to the need to feel loved and important by the same people we feel that way about?
I found an alternative email address for him. It is a work address that he had posted on a forgotten site we both belong to. I sent a one line message asking that he please read my letter. In his line of work, I don’t know how often he checks his email. He doesn’t have an office job. But it’s been over a day. Surely he has seen it by now.
No response. I’m certain that I have officially received “The Blow Off”, and I feel as though another little piece of my heart has been chipped off.
I can’t shake the guilt, and all I wanted was for him to receive my apology. I wanted him to know that, in spite of my poor judgment, that he meant something to me.
Ugh… I don’t know where I’m going with this. It’s just a hard day. I miss him like mad. Like Misfit Mistress, I spend too much time checking his wife’s photo on Facebook. Wondering what he is thinking. Comparing myself to her. Jealous of her.
Along this path, I’ve met women who have been cheated on. It breaks my heart to know what they are going through. (in so many ways, both the betrayed wife and the other woman deal with much the same emotions.) Why can’t I see his wife in the same way? Am I that much of a heartless woman? Am I that selfish? Who am I?
Perhaps I have become more selfish than I ever realized I could be. Perhaps I already was that selfish. Who knows. Regardless, I am selfish now. I want something that belongs to someone else. And I want it bad. As much now as I ever did.
Here is how I picture things for him right now:
He is in survival mode; willing to do whatever it takes to salvage his marriage and his comfortable life. The very life that just over two weeks ago, he was willing to put on the line for me. (Even if he wasn’t willing to give it up, there was obviously a part of him that was willing to risk it.) The very life that seemed so boring and mundane. The same wife who he complained already had him on a short leash, now has him on an even tighter leash.
However, he has also begun to forget about me. He has moved on. I am a distant memory. He only thinks about me when he goes to do something he used to do and realizes that he has to check in with his wife first. I am the one who is responsible for his current hassles and inconveniences. He regrets getting back in touch with me.
Other than the inconveniences that he now sometimes experiences, his life continues on as normal. Normal schedule. Same talks. Same arguments. Same boredom. The things that used to annoy him about his life, might still annoy him, but he is so thankful for a second chance at continuing on with his boring existence.
He tasted the forbidden fruit. But he is determined to forget it. It was fun while it took place, but in the end all it represents is betrayal (mine, not his). I might appear in his dreams. I might cross his mind when he sees an attractive female on the street or on television. But he stuffs it down and shakes it off faster than you can say “cheater”.
He is oblivious to my suffering. To my guilt. And even if he weren’t, it’s not his problem. After all, it’s my own fault that I am suffering, not his. He was content to continue on. He wasn’t the one who blew the whistle.
He is all too happy to take his lumps instead of reaching out to me. He has not shed a tear over me. Has not longed to hold me again. Doesn’t miss the feel of my lips on his.
He wanted his cake and to eat it too. Now he also gets to go on a cakewalk. Easy peasy.
Someone please tell me that this craziness is just part of the healing process.
I can honestly say that my mind has not stopped thinking about the situation and him for one freaking second since he ended things.
I read through article after article looking for answers and clues and healing. I know the facts and statistics. They tell me that he would have never left his wife. We were doomed from the beginning. Their marriage will probably continue. He won’t come back to me even if it doesn’t because I betrayed his trust (~ahem~ pot, meet kettle… oh the irony…)
My mind goes round and round and round. I feel trapped inside this vicious cycle of “what if-s” and “if only-s”.
When we were on the phone the last time and things were ending, he told me he had to try to salvage things. He told me several things without being specific and told me to start over. At one point he told me “don’t read into anything”.
So guess what I’m doing? Not only am I reading into things, I’m reading into the fact that he told me not to read into anything.
Right now I want to hate him.
I want to hate him, so I’m calling him names in my mind. Bastard. Jerk. Cheat. Liar. Asshole. Fat Bastard (that one sort of gives me a chuckle…) Jerk. Cheat. Damn Liar. Fucking Asshole. Bastard. Jerk. Cheat. Liar.
It helps for a moment. Gives me a glimpse of being able to see a light at the end of the tunnel, hoping that one day I’ll believe those words. Or just won’t give a damn that he is or isn’t those things. But I can’t keep that up for too long. Trying to hate him only works briefly.
Today he left for a vacation with his family. His wife, kids, his wife’s sister and her husband. It’s only been a week since his wife found out about the affair. I’m sure it will be a long drive in the car together. Hopefully, the children will be plugged into their DVD headphones so that they can’t hear the screaming silence. Or maybe ex and wife will be able to talk about things. I want his family to heal one way or another.
And right there lies the dichotomy of this situation: the desire to hate him and yet love him enough to wish him well.
This week would have been a lonely, anxiety-ridden, hellish week for me whether the affair had ended or not. If we were still together, I would be spending the week with no contact. We had already discussed that. Being on a family vacation doesn’t offer many moments to steal away to text or call your lover.
He was always very careful: deleting everything, not taking crazy risks in order to see me, compartmentalizing his dual life. He maintained a sense of control throughout the entire affair. His job trained him for that. That is why I was so surprised that there were still messages from me in his email account, waiting to be discovered. Either his wife is some secret computer hacker, or he ended up being careless.
When he last called me, to tell me his wife knew and end things, he accepted his part of the blame and responsibility. He didn’t sound mad – no yelling or name calling. Still very controlled. Maybe that was just the shock; he said he was in shock that I did what I did and that he never saw it coming.
I don’t know what’s worse: to think of him being indifferent or hating me.
I think I know the answer to that. I just don’t want to allow myself to think that he feels that way towards me.
Fat bastard.
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