An Error of Omission

    Five very long weeks ago, on Christmas night, my wife came to me and started talking. She told me that the emotional affair she'd been involved in had become as important to her as her marriage to me. She also told me that a shopping trip she'd gone on a couple weeks before had actually been a secret weekend getaway with her "other man", and that it crossed the line that weekend and became a physical affair. That was five weeks ago.

    Last night, my wife and I sat and just talked for hours. We talked about our fears and struggles. We talked about how much we loved each other. We talked about a future we both look forward to together. We talked about taking dance lessons. Not because we both love to dance, but because we are both so self conscious and scared on a dance floor we never go dancing. We talked about how nice it will be to face, and overcome that fear together, and how nice it will be to do it with our arms wrapped around each other. After learning to dance, we are moving on to bungee jumping.

    In five very long weeks we have taken our marriage from the very edge of the abyss to a better place than it has ever been. Every step has been documented here, but not every detail has been given. As I started thinking last night, I became very aware that the single most important factor in our recovery has been somewhat glossed over by me. In my second post, I said "As a Christian, I know that God hates divorce, but I also know that in this case, I had His blessing to end it." I have also commented on Anne and me clinging to God and each other. These short statements simply don't do justice to the role our faith has played in our path to where we are today. I happen to believe that God created the institution of marriage. To suggest that a marriage can be as strong without His input as with it seems just plain silly to me. But, as I've said, my greatest expertise is in wrecking a marriage, not getting it right. Anne and I spent eight years driving ours off a cliff, and have only had five weeks of experience getting it right. Take my advice as you will. I will continue to give credit and glory to God. If you would prefer to credit two obvious bunglers like Anne and I, be my guest. We will both be wishing you the best of luck.

    We were all home together on Thursday. It was a snow day, and the kids were all cranked up. We decided to send them outside, while we watched a movie together. We had heard about a movie called "Fireproof". It had been playing in theaters in the fall. We both felt at the time that we should make time to see it. We had heard that it could really help strengthen our marriage, but there were just too many things on our agenda that were more important to us. (If that statement didn't cause you to pause, read it again) We wanted to see it now. I slipped and slid to the video store and back with the movie in hand. We got the kids out of the way and snuggled under a blanket to enjoy the film. About halfway through, we were both in tears. We saw so much of ourselves in the couple we were watching. We wanted to scream out a warning. We both agreed that if we had seen this movie in the fall, we might well have avoided the painful events that finally woke us up. We also agreed that we needed to get a copy to keep on our shelf for the day we might need to be reminded of the things we knew so clearly now. I will warn you; if you are a person who becomes instantly offended and angry by the suggestion that your life could be better with God than without Him, this movie probably won't do much for you. That would be sad, because this movie really CAN change both your life and your marriage. I've said before that it take two to rebuild a marriage. I stand by that. This movie can show you how one partner, with God, can be the two it takes.

    I used to think that being "in love" was a naturally temporary thing. It's fading over time was just "par for the course". It doesn't have to be. The fact is that the fading of that feeling is a very clear sign that you are off course. My heart beats faster when I know Anne is on her way home from work, or I am finished with me day and headed back to her. I get excited when I see her name as the caller on my phone. I smile when she sends me a text. I am totally, completely, head over heels, gaga, in love with my wife. When a good thing happens during my day, it's not complete until I've shared it with her. When I am troubled by something, I know that talking to her about it will make me feel better. It does make me sad sometimes to think of what we had to go through to get here. We will both carry scars from this for a long time. I carry a lot of scars on my body. They remind me of mistakes I've made and serve to warm me away from making the same mistakes again. Some have even become badges of honor that remind me how much I can deal with when new trials come upon me. I can live with scars. I don't ever even want to think about living without my Annie. She is right where she belongs; at the center of my world.

Nothing to Fear but Fear

Despite our best intentions to take a break from any "hard work" this last week, Anne and I found ourselves covering a lot of new ground. Wednesday, I received a note from a reader commenting on the "new info" included in Anne's letter to me. It was pointed out that new information can take a betrayed spouse right back to day one in some cases. I decided to share the note with Anne. I had been feeling that there were things she wasn't telling me. I could understand her hesitancy. We had barely survived what she HAD shared. The idea of sharing anything more had to be scary for her. She has been very open since her confession. Answering any question I asked, and working hard to ensure that she is an open book, but clearly there were things that I wasn't thinking to ask and she wasn't eager to share. I used the note to open a door for her. It gave her an invitation the share anything she hadn't shared before. She decided to make use of the opportunity, and I'm glad she did. Secrets are a heavy burden. I wanted to make her feel safe in laying those burdens down.

I took a fair amount of time before sending her "invitation". Was I really ready for what she might tell me? I had to be. I had to be ready to accept anything she might throw at me or this could backfire in a huge way. I sat and tried to imagine the very worst things she could tell me. Only when I was ready to hear the worst did I hit send on the e-mail I had written. What she did share, was pretty easy to deal with compared to what I had prepared myself to hear, but that didn't mean it was easy for Anne. She'd been living with the fear of me deciding this was all just too hard and leaving for some time. Every new detail she provided was terrifying to her.

I understand fear. My own fear had become all consuming prior to Anne's confession. It peaked on Thanksgiving Day. We were spending the day with her parents and extended family. I hadn't seen her for awhile, and went to look for her. I found her in the basement. She was obviously ok. She was better than ok. She was glowing. Her smile was radiant, her eyes were sparkling, and she was on the phone with Dick. I was trembling as I walked up the stairs. I had lost my wife. This relationship was clearly more important to her than me, her children, or any of her family. She was gone. It could only be a matter of time before she came to me and told me she was leaving. I remember standing at the top of the stairs clenching every muscle in my body to get myself under control. I forced a smile on my face and assured everyone that Anne was fine. I told them she had a friend going through a rough time, and that SHE needed Anne's help. When we got home that night, I was torn. Even as I packed my own bag to leave, I thought about calling her parents to tell them what was going on and that they needed to come and get her. I didn't do either. I was afraid to do anything. I couldn't do anything. I was too afraid. All I could do was sit and wait for Anne to come to me and tell me she was leaving. That is what I thought was happening Christmas night.

As I look back on things, I can see that fear has always been a factor for Anne and I. We've both been afraid to upset the other from our very beginning. I suppressed my fear and focused on just working harder at those things I thought would make Anne understand how I felt about her. She dealt with her fear by taking the things she was afraid to tell me to an old friend. Dick didn't mind hearing what Anne wanted from her husband. He was more than happy to not only listen, but to provide what she was asking for. Fear kept us from talking to each other. Fear kept me from leaving Thanksgiving night. The fact is that I should have left. Leaving would have told Anne what the price of her behavior was. It might very well have sent her running to Dick, but if there was anything left to save, she would have been in a position to see what she was risking. As it was, I told her by my inaction that she either wasn't doing anything wrong, or that I just didn't care enough to be bothered. Neither was true. The truth was that I was lying awake at night waiting for her to go to sleep so I could slip downstairs and cry. I was, of course, terrified of letting her see me cry.

As Anne and I have discussed things over the past few days, we have both realized that fear was the real problem in our relationship. It was at the core of everything. We have committed to never give in to our fear again. We have also begun working to make changes in ourselves that build a sense of security in the other. The fact is that we both taught each other that there we consequences to saying what we were feeling. It will take time to replace those lessons with new ones. We are working very hard on this.

I remember the period from Thanksgiving to Christmas as the worst and most painful period of my life. The news I received that night was just the final stab. In some ways, it was less painful than the weeks before had been. In other ways, it was able to eclipse those weeks in a way that almost let me forget them for a short time. Some have suggested that sharing all this could come back to bite Anne and I. So long as we learn from our mistakes, I'm pretty sure we can deal with anything. If anything I've written can save even one person from the pain we've experienced, it will be well worth the risk. We don't have any real expertise in making a marriage work. We do however; have a great deal of expertise in how to drive one off a cliff. If you are reading this, married, and finding yourself thinking that any of our issues are issues in your own relationship, I encourage you to engage a marriage counselor for help. Anne and I have begun this ourselves. We've been very lucky to have made so much progress on our own. We're not at all willing to risk our future on continued good luck. We're beginning to see a future that is not worth risking for anything.

Coming Down

Wow…tomorrow Anne and I will be 28 days "post impact". Only four weeks, but so much has happened and been done. It feels like so much longer than that! We have covered a lot of ground together. We have both worked hard to help each other, and to help "us". Yesterday we both just got into a bit of a funk. We both have headaches, and seem to be dealing with a general moodiness we can't quite put words to. As I thought about this, a light bulb went off in my head. I have felt this way before, after combat. For me to describe what happened Christmas night as traumatic would be an understatement. In the days since, all my knobs have been cranked to twelve. I've been "hyper-everything". Every word and action has carried an importance that is hard to explain. Nothing has felt trivial or unimportant. A human body can only tolerate this kind of heightened existence for so long before it starts to suffer. I was coming down. I went home to talk to Anne. While she gave different words to her feelings, we both seemed to be feeling much the same things. We agreed to just let ourselves coast for a bit. No more "hard work". We're just going to focus on loving each other and cushioning each other's landings. What we didn't discuss is that there is no reliable way to predict how far we may fall. We may well be entering a phase that could challenge us. It will test the changes we've tried to make that past few weeks. We are entering this phase clinging tightly to God and each other. We have to trust both to carry us through.

We are talking together in a way we never have before. We are praying together each night before bed. We are learning to trust each other with feelings we had carried alone in the past. We are appreciating each other in a way that was almost forgotten. We have decided to seek the aid of a marriage counselor. We both understand that while we have made great strides on our own with the help of some amazing friends, there are still tough times ahead. We want to ensure that we have built the strongest possible support structure before those times hit.

I'm going to let myself take a break from writing for awhile. It served me well early on, but I confess it has become something I'm starting to view as a chore. It probably won't be a long break, but just letting myself off the hook feels pretty good. I did find another online support community I really feel good about. Save Your Marriage Central has a wonderfully supportive community of adults dealing with marriage issues. Some forum moderators are certified marriage coaches, and they have closed forums for people to use who are dealing with particularly sensitive issues। Including one for wayward spouses, who, let's face it; find it very hard to find a sympathetic ear in our world. I'm strongly encouraging Anne to make use of this.

I want to thank everyone who has contacted me in past weeks. The support and prayers have been greatly appreciated. It's also nice to know that some of what I have written has been helpful to others. I'll post again when I feel the need. Until then, just love each other.

Don

Fundamental Flaws-She Said

Don,

For me (Don), writing is therapy. I write to process my feelings and feel better. It's not the same for Anne. When I asked her to write to me telling everything she saw as wrong before, she looked at like I had asked her to give up one of our children. I felt a need to see it. She did it for me, and I thank her for it. This wasn't easy for Anne to write. It wasn't easy for me to read. I've changed all the names, and locations to protect our identities, but every word is hers as she wrote it.

 

P.S. Our oldest daughter "Cindy" was almost a year old when we started dating. I adopted her shortly after we wed… this will help to avoid some confusion as you read on.

 

<Anne's Letter to Me>

 

I'm going to try to start this and go back from our beginning. Who knows how long or short this is going to be. I'm just trying to really analyze what I have been feeling, and find a way to put it into words.

 

When we were dating, I would come down for the weekend and you would put everything aside to be with me. Even when I moved in with my grandparents and came over almost every night, you still put everything aside until I left. You would hold me. We would lay on the couch together. You would take time to just kiss me, or give me a hug, or "hang" on me, just because. We both know I am a "words of affirmation" and "physical touch" person, according to the 5 love languages book. I need those things to feel loved. Not necessarily in that order.

 

When we were married and Cindy & I moved in with you, things had changed. Maybe for the first month or so, things were good, but then you started doing your computer gaming. You weren't spending time with me, holding me, but you were still telling me how much you loved me and then going to play your games. I know you know this now, but being in the same room with someone doing 2 completely different things does NOT constitute as quality time together. I think you thought it did.

 

I was trying to adjust to the new "us" and how different it was than what I had expected. During our first year of marriage, I began to wonder what I had done because this was NOT the way I expected our marriage to be. I saw us doing things together, spending time together, being totally into each other… instead, I was left at home with Cindy while you ran into town to take care of errands, our

grocery trips together turned into me doing them with Cindy, when you were home you were so into the internet and your gaming that I was pretty much a single parent with an additional income and not living in my grandparents' or parents' house anymore. This was not what I had signed up for, and definitely not what I wanted. However, we were married now, and there was no way out. I felt stuck.

 

I know that our sleeping schedules at that time were different too, but even though I told you it was ok, I would feel hurt every time we would make love and then you would get up to go do your gaming. I felt like I was keeping you from that. I was just a little inconvenience that needed to be taken care of before you could get to do what you really wanted.

 

After Sherry was born, I know the gaming became more of an issue and continued for a while until you started giving your family its adequate time. It wasn't the gaming that I hated. I hated the fact that I felt that was over everyone around you. Nothing else mattered while Everquest, or Star Wars, or whatever game you were playing was on.

 

Mac came along, and more responsibility fell on me. I stayed home and you worked. Not having the 2nd income added more stress, but we did find ways to make it. Having eviction notices come nearly every month until we paid our rent did not help the situation. The stress from all of that kept me from wanting anything. I didn't want anyone to touch me. I didn't want anyone to see me. I didn't want our life. We were not making it. We managed to keep the roof over our heads, and keep our van, but we were behind in EVERY THING and that was very stressful. I know this was an issue for me before, but I started eating… a LOT. I would make a daily trip to Walmart to pick up a big bag of candy for the day. I remember stocking up on Halloween candy that first October that we lived n Brianstown because I thought we would be a power neighborhood and would need a lot for all of the kids. I tore open the bags and finished them up sometimes in one day's time. Snack size 3 Musketeers made me feel better, so I thought at the time. Then I would need to replace the bag so we weren't short on Halloween. I think that year you still had to go out and get some that day because I had eaten all the candy we had to give. When you came home, I didn't talk to you about how I felt because I didn't want to stress you out and I knew you were doing all you could. You were working. What more could I ask?

 

When we had to move into the smaller house, everything hit the fan. We still couldn't afford to pay our bills, our rent was going up for a smaller house, stress, stress, stress… Not knowing what was going to happen to us. We were asked to move because we were not paying the rent on time. There was no other reason for the owner to decide they wanted to sell that house.

 

Anyway, it became an addiction for me. I don't know why that, but eating gave me something to do. I was bored, unhappy and stressed. If I had any interest in smoking, it probably would have been that. Drinking didn't really appeal to me as a way to get rid of the pain, or stress, because I didn't like the woozy feeling. Eating was a way to hide what I was doing w/out any smoky smells, or horrible dizzy feeling.

 

At the time, I saw my daily exercise as me doing what my body needed. Truth is, if I lost weight, it was because I pigged out 3-4 days at the beginning of the week, cut back for the remainder of the week, got in a little more activity, starved myself the day before weigh in, and saw 1-2lbs lost that week. Still not sure how all of that worked, but it did. That's all I cared about. I didn't really change anything. I was still medicating myself with food, but thought I was ok because the weight was still coming off. During our move, I gained 40 lbs in 2 months. Did you realize that? This made me even more unhappy. I had put so much time and effort into losing weight (as I saw it), had lost almost 45 lbs and here I sat back where I began.

 

Starting to work at FTC helped me because I was making friends and getting adult interaction. It just gave me something to do while I continued to eat. I wasn't just sitting at home being unhappy anymore. It gave me a place to go so I could put the problems aside and forget that we couldn't pay our bills, or that something was missing. It was when I went home that I had to be reminded that life wasn't good. The time you came to me and asked if I was leaving you, it had never occurred to me, but I think deep down, that's what I was wanting. I was wanting something different. I wanted to be happy. I wanted… something else.

 

When I saw that Dick had first contacted me on my Classmates page about 3years ago, it was nice to hear that name again. I wrote him a note and we got in touch through e-mail. Then it became a phone call. It was nice to catch up and just find out what he had been up to. We decided to keep some kind of contact. We did NOT set out to be a major part in the other person's life. I talked to him maybe once every 2 months for the first 2 yrs. Then it was about once every month. Any time you and I had a car issue, or something was wrong with one of your trucks, I would call him. Was I looking for an excuse? I have no idea. Talking with him took me back to a time that I felt good about me. Now, in High School I had the issues of I am so fat, I'm so ugly, blah, blah, blah… but in truth, I felt good about me. I had friends that liked me and we did things together. It was fun. It was a pretty non-stressful time. It was nice to just give up the cares for a little bit and talk about old times.

 

I would take our conversations into another room because I didn't want to disturb you in watching TV, or make you feel uncomfortable. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing to feel uncomfortable about, but I knew if you were spending this time on the phone with Jessica, I would be a raving bitch. That is why I took the time to make sure you were ok w/this. I would ask you, and you would say it didn't matter. I could talk to whomever I wanted. Ok, that was fine. I would… If you would have told me that it did bother you, I would have made it more of a rare occasion to talk to him. I would not have let it progress to what it did. That was not blaming you. I should have also been wise enough to keep distance. Moving on…

 

This person made me feel good about me. While you were there saying I was beautiful and not really spending time with me, Dick was telling me how he always thought I was beautiful. I was always so nice and so sweet. He couldn't imagine me ever being someone to fight with because I could never do any wrong. I, of course, would tell him he was full of it, but really liked that he said it. Any disagreement you & I would have, I told him about it because he would tell me how right I was and unreasonable you were. I could make him laugh. He made me laugh. I felt good. I started wanting more of that contact.

 

You and I sat on different couches in the living room. No problem. We need our space and you liked to lay on the couch. Fine. We watched shows together, but not a lot. Watching TV was not communicating. You did take the time to make breakfast for me, make sure the house was straightened, did some laundry, cleaned the dishes, got the kids off to school, took care of homework… all of that was great. Theresa would tell me how wonderful you were and how lucky I was to have you. Yep. I knew that. Don is great. I know I've got a great husband. This was life. But, it was life in us just going through our day. I told myself and everyone that I didn't have time for this stuff because I was so busy. Working full-time and going to school. Poor me. Feel bad for me… I'm so busy… I started expecting those actions out of you and taking advantage of your willingness to do those things for our family. When you would point out how I needed to help out a little more, I thought you were crazy. How could I? I have school and work. How could you expect that from me? Go call Dick.

 

I started looking for reasons to leave the house so I could call Dick. You had asked me to cut contact with him because of the fear I expressed to you earlier, but I just couldn't. If I cut contact w/Dick, I wouldn't be hearing every day how wonderful I am. He even started telling me that he loved me. When he first said it, I couldn't believe it. Why would he love me? All we had done was talk! I told him he couldn't love me and he needed to take that energy back to Tina. He would describe how horrible their situation was and I told him that maybe if he would give her the attention and feelings he was giving me, maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He insisted that he had tried. I let that go. I let him continue telling me that he loved me. I started saying it back, but I told myself that I was meaning it as a friendship, and even told him that. After all, friends told each other they loved each other, right? I think it became a little more than just friendship love. I was craving what he was giving me. Still looking for ways to leave the house. Finish dinner, run to Meijer. Finish dinner, go to Speedway and get your pop. Gotta go get this small thing that has no importance because I want to talk to Dick. This entire time, more distance was coming between you and me and I told myself it was because of you. You didn't care enough to spend time with me, or listen to what I had to say. We started arguing a lot. It was obviously because there was something wrong with you. I was not happy. This marriage had turned into more of a chore and a burden than I had ever wanted. More frustrations, more pain, more arguing… call Dick. Feel good.

 

When he suggested that we get together and just hang out for a night. I thought, "You are crazy. There is no way that I am going to find myself in a hotel room with you alone while Tina is on the rampage and wanting to claw my eyes out for just talking to you." He insisted nothing would happen and he knew that I was married. We both had responsibilities and obligations and we wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. I told him I would have to think about it. After all, I had no way of getting out of the house for a night that wouldn't make you suspicious. He told me to think about it and said he already had his excuse. I let myself take comfort in the fact that it would never happen. Even if we did set up a date, I would end up cancelling before because it just wasn't right, and truthfully, deep down, I knew I couldn't trust myself. Time went by. We set a date. I told myself I would end up cancelling it. He asked for the vacation time that Friday. He was coming all the way here to have lunch with me and we would drive to Bloomington together/ following each other. I had no idea what I was going to tell you, which was also why I thought I would cancel it.

 

I got a facebook message from my friend Darcie in AR a couple weeks before hoping I could make a day trip to Rockville so we could meet up and see each other, but it was the weekend of Cindy's b-day party, and there was no way I could make it. It occurred to me that it would be a good excuse, and it's not someone that you would insist on talking to. That would explain the miles on the van, and it was close to Christmas time so we would meet for shopping. The lie was set. I was never comfortable about telling you that. I didn't want to lie to you, but there was no way that you would even pretend to be ok w/me going to Bloomington to meet Dick to hang out. It was all innocent anyway, nothing was going to happen.

 

The issues on Thanksgiving… wanted to talk to Dick more than be around you. (I'm so sorry.) There was so much friction between us and I didn't like it. I knew why it was there, and knew I was uncomfortable around you because of the lie I had told. I was excited about seeing

Dick again, but never wanted to lie to you.

 

Anyway, that Friday came, he came out and we ate lunch together. (I know that is new info for you. Please forgive me for not telling you.) I got off early, we travelled to Bloomington. Ordered pizza that night and just talked, laughed, hung out, the way we said we would. Nothing happened. Went to bed. That Saturday, got up late, didn't eat breakfast. Went out and did some shopping. Fun. Ate lunch. More shopping. Hotel room. Relax for a little bit. Went to eat supper. At the end of supper, Tina started texting me. She had been trying to call him off and on that day and he just ignored her calls. He made a couple calls to her to try to calm her so she would leave him alone. I was in panic mode that she would figure out we were together and would freak thinking something had happened. I texted her back not wanting her to become suspicious if I didn't respond. She said she would leave me alone since I was hanging out with my "friend." I was shaking. I had just lied to her too. There was no way I could tell her the truth. We left the restaurant and went back to the hotel room. I was quiet and didn't want him around me. He would put his hand on my arm and I would pull away. This was obviously wrong. I wished I hadn't made the trip. This was so wrong. He had lied, I had lied. And, what would Don think if he knew??? I was crying and still shaking. I had made such a mistake. I was better than this. This was the first time I had ever lied to you. I was so rotten. You would be so upset if you found out. I became more hysterical. Dick came and sat by me and rubbed my back. He told me that there was nothing wrong with me wanting to be around an old friend.

Nothing had happened and I didn't need to feel bad about it. Tina wouldn't do anything and I didn't need to worry about that. I was so sweet and he wouldn't let her hurt me or my family. He gave me a hug…

 

The night I told you, I realized… I had not wanted to tell you. It was the hardest thing I had ever said to you. I was so scared at what you would do. When you insisted on leaving because you needed to think, I've said it before, my world collapsed. How could I have even thought that Dick was as important as you? How could I have ever even tried to equalize the plane that my "friendship" with him was on, to make it even with my marriage with you? My thought was, "Oh God, please bring him

back to me." I was devastated. The weight and the fall out of my actions collapsed on me. This was huge. We had never dealt with anything so big before. You had always told me what would happen if

I cheated on you. Jessica had done it. I didn't want to be her. Now I WAS her, but worse. I had broken our vows. She at least had the courtesy to do this BEFORE the vows were taken. When you came back with a bottle of wine that night, I was afraid to ask what you were doing. You poured both glasses and I just silently prayed that you were willing to work through it. I was afraid to ask. I prayed and prayed and prayed over and over that we could work through this. I knew things would not be good. I had seen what Stan and Peg were going through and I had no idea what that would mean for us. I was convinced that you would never want to touch me again, even if we decided to "try" to make it work. I was convinced that there would never ever be sex again. I had dug my grave, and I needed to wait for you to pour the dirt over me. I would pay for this the rest of my life. I was hurting because of what I had done to you and I was hurting for you. The best relationship I had ever had was now hanging by a thread and I was sure it would be cut w/in a week.

 

Why did I just replay those moments? I don't know.

 

I have a need to hear and physically feel love. I need that from you. Anytime that I had tried to tell you before, I perceived your response as an inconvenience to you and you would "work" on it, sigh. I didn't have high hopes that things would change. There were times that you would walk up behind me and start rubbing my back, or reach around and grab my breasts… THAT is what I needed. And, it made me feel so good. But, then I would come up and try to give you a hug, put my arms around you, and I would feel pushed away as an inconvenience. I need to know that you want me at that exact moment. I need to have you grab me and passionately kiss me. Anytime that you have in the past, it makes my heart skip a beat. I love it.

 

I know that I need to put more of an effort into doing things for you. I know your love language is "Acts of Service" and I want to do that for you. I will not become your slave, but I want to make you feel as loved as you have made me feel these last weeks. I want to do that for the rest of my life. I truly love you and I will do anything for you. I am sorry for doing this to us, but I know together we can work through this. We can make "us" better. We can become so strong and close. I really look forward to that. I look forward to the time spent with you as we work at getting stronger. You are my best friend. I will never forget that again. I love you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scary

I said in my very first post that when I searched the internet for help that first day after Christmas, I found nothing helpful. I have since learned that there are some good places to find help and support on the web. I learned Thursday that my page had been linked to by the reader of two forums focused on relationships. Ask Dan and Jennifer.com has a great deal of useful information and tips for anyone who is in a relationship and would like to make it stronger, or better. The forums seem to be dominated a bit by young, unmarried people, but there is a lot of good stuff here. Talk About Marriage is my new favorite forum. If I had found this site that first morning I might not have started this blog. I've only had a couple days to browse, but I found this community to be filled with good people who are genuinely interested in helping each other. Some of the stories here give me great hope. Some have provided warnings that I hope can help Anne and I avoid similar traps that might lie in wait for us.

One such story, involved a couple who, seven years after reconciliation, found themselves in real trouble. Her "other man" had developed a life threatening health condition. She didn't want to be with him, but she wanted to know he was ok. She initiated contact, and her husband found out. For Anne and me, her promise to break contact with Dick was the first step in rebuilding our relationship. Breaking that promise would rip the foundation from under everything we've built. It would, in short, be a deal breaker. It was for this woman's husband as well. Reading this story scared me. I shared it with Anne, and it scared her too. The fears this stirred in up would distract us the rest of the day, and most of Friday as well.

When I put myself in this story, I feel her husband's pain. My heart wants Anne to stop caring whether Dick lives or dies. That sounds harsh, but it's what I feel. It may be what I always feel. I need for her to understand that is what I feel. My head, when allowed to join the discussion, knows that this is unrealistic, and at least a little unfair. If I learned that Anne had gone behind my back, and broken that first, foundational promise, I don't know that my head would be able to overrule my heart. I found myself becoming more and more distracted by a question I was terrified to ask. What would Anne do in this situation? I was terrified to ask because I was afraid of the answer I might get. I held it in all day Thursday, and all day on Friday. I tried to get it out of my mind. I focused on other things, but it never left. When Anne came home Friday night, I knew it had to be discussed. My heart was racing with apprehension when I asked Anne to come over so we could talk. As I told her about the worry this story had caused me, she confessed that it had been on her mind too. I explained what my heart told me, and what my head knew. I asked the question. "What would you do in this situation?" She said that her first instinct would be to make contact without telling me. My heart sank. She pulled away from me and went to sit at her desk. She was sure that I wouldn't be able to understand, and that the only way to deal with the situation would be to do what she needed to do while hoping I wouldn't find out about it.

I forced myself to cross a room that had become impossibly wide. I knelt at her feet and looked into her eyes. I reminded her that this is what had gotten us into this situation. We had to learn to trust each other. We had to be able to take any question to the other KNOWING that we could deal with it together. As we talked, tears began to flow down her cheeks. We talked about the old "us". All the mistakes that we had made and all the things we were working so hard to change. We promised that we would trust each other. We promised not to do anything behind the other's back. We promised not to let the fear that had slowly formed a wall between us before to ever do the same again.

I have to believe that if we ever find ourselves in a story like the one we had read, Anne will have the courage and trust she needs to come to me and tell me what she needs. I have to trust that I will love her enough to find a way to give her what she needs in a way I can handle. I have to believe, that no matter what comes, we can deal with it together.

Thursday, I also read a very encouraging story about a couple married 50+ years. They had made it through all the trials Anne and I were dealing with and more. Their secret? ...They made their marriage a contest. Each working to outdo the other in making each other happy. This is the key. We must put our spouse's needs ahead of our own, and trust them to do the same. If we can do this, we can make it through any trial…together. I love you Anne. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life loving you. Together we can do anything.

The Thinking Man’s Guide to Mucking Things Up

I spend great amounts of time thinking about things. I can drive for hours contemplating deep things and come to some very profound conclusions. I've always prided myself on being quite the "thinker". I've given hours of thought to love, my marriage, and how best to fulfill my role as a husband and a father. I've even considered writing a book on the subject. I was, after all, the very image of husbandly perfection.

I'd heard people say that they had "fallen out of love" with their spouses. Mark's wife had said this. I gave this a lot of thought, and came to a profound conclusion I was happy to share with others. People simply failed to understand the nature of love. It begins as an act of nature. That warm fuzzy feeling we experience early in our relationship is the result of a biological response in our brain. It's due, in simple terms, to a chemical imbalance. We would be silly to expect that feeling to last forever. It passes with time as our brains return to normal. For love to last forever, it requires something permanent. It requires love to grow into an act of will. We must begin our days by looking at our partner and deciding that we will love them today. We will put their needs ahead of our own. By making this commitment every day, we can ensure that our marriage will last, and that our spouse will feel secure and loved. I made a personal commitment to make this promise anew every day. For the most part, I kept that promise. Every morning I would look at Anne, and tell myself that I was going to love her today. I was going to put her needs ahead of my own, and love her. I was going to be a good husband.

One day, I was in a store, and an attractive woman flirted with me. I felt flirted with anyway. It felt really nice. It told me I "still had it". I spent the rest of the day thinking about this. Once again, I came to some very profound conclusions. Everyone needs to feel attractive. Everyone wants to be reminded that they "still have it". The problem for married couples is, over time, they begin to distrust their partners in this. "She has to tell me I'm good looking, she's my wife". As we begin to distrust what we hear from our spouse, our self image can suffer. We begin to feel less desirable, and that leads us to feel less desire. A vicious cycle begins. It is crucial for married couples to recognize this need for "external validation" as natural, and to find ways of satisfying that need in a safe and healthy way. Anne and I discussed this a great deal as she and Dick were having daily conversations. It's ok to enjoy some attention, just set proper boundaries, and no one gets hurt. We've discussed this post impact, and have agreed that getting this attention from anyone we have an address and phone number for is too dangerous. It can only be allowed to come from anonymous sources, and the good feeling it produces needs to be taken back home to benefit the other. It was one of our first truly positive steps toward ensuring this never happens again.

If you have found yourself nodding in agreement with these "profound conclusions", be warned…they are the ravings of a fool. That warm feeling I got when Anne walked in a room didn't go anywhere until Christmas night. It had become so normal for me I stopped noticing it…until it was gone. There are times when love must be sustained as an act of will. It wasn't a warm fuzzy feeling that brought me home and lead me to try to work through this. It was an act of will. I have that warm fuzzy feeling again. I can't say it's stronger than it was before, but I am far more aware and appreciative of it today. I still start every day with my promise, but now I let Anne know I've made it. How can a silent promise make someone feel loved? I was a fool.

As for my "external validation" theory; it wasn't a need for external validation that got us in trouble. It was an utter absence of internal validation that caused Anne to come to me that night begging me to help her feel loved. The more we have talked, the clearer it becomes that we weren't talking before. Sure I thought about Anne twenty times a day, but I almost never let her know I was thinking of her. She could "turn my crank" with a glance, but I almost never told her that or acted on it. Of course it feels good to get flirted with by a stranger. There's nothing wrong with feeling good in those moments, but it feels a whole lot better to get flirted with by the one who loves you.

 

One of Those Days

My last post really needs a “She Said” to follow it. Anne assures me that she will provide one, but it’s not ready yet. In the mean time, yesterday was “one of those days”. A good friend of Anne decided that this was just bringing too many emotions to the surface for her. She feels a real need to pull away for a time. The way this played out was devastating for her. It also resulted in my learning that Dick has been calling her at work. She’s assured me that she has not spoken with him, and has only left a voice mail asking him to stop calling, but it stirred up a LOT of anger in me. Knowing even that she is hearing his voice on occasion made me crazy.
I’d been so focused on us that he had been pushed aside. My anger had also been pushed aside. As it surfaced yesterday, it frightened me. I sent a message to his phone telling him to stop. No threats, no wild descriptions of what I would do to him if he refused, just a simple demand that he stop calling my wife. Even as I struggled to control what I was writing, my mind swirled with ugly, disturbing images. Images of what had happened between them and images of what I would like to do to him. I remember Mark telling me about the fantasies he had as he went through this. I’d wondered at the time where mine were. They came to me yesterday with a vengeance.
The odd thing is that just the day before another friend of Anne’s had told her that she thought I might need to be given permission to show my anger. She worried that I might be holding it in, in an unhealthy way. At the time, I really didn’t think she had anything to worry about. Now I’m not so sure. Yesterday showed me that I am angry. I’ve not found a way to express it, and if I don’t, it could come back to bite us.
As I write this today, I’ve not been able to find an answer to this problem. It’s clearly something I need to focus some effort on.

Fundamental Flaws-He said

As I reviewed my earlier posts yesterday, it occurred to me that they are all very similar. We were having a good day, a painful trigger was pulled, we talked it out and got past it. I started thinking that there has to be more to this. It is clear to me that communication is the key to Anne and me moving forward, but we need to do more to truly build a marriage that is stronger than the one we had before. In order to do that we have to really look at what our marriage was before.
The fact is that there was something truly wrong with our marriage before Anne’s infidelity. If there weren’t, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I am NOT going to suggest that any of those flaws excuse Anne’s behavior. Cheating is wrong, inexcusably wrong, but if we don’t examine how we got where we are, we are doomed to find ourselves back where we were. I began thinking about what our marriage was, and what went wrong for us.
I had been, I thought, the model husband. I encouraged her and supported in her pursuing her interests and goals. I helped out around the house. I began each day by making her breakfast and packing her lunch. I had actually heard her friends tell her how lucky she was to have a husband like me. I grew up listening my mom tell me what a good husband was by listening very closely to her complaints about my dad. I had worked very hard to ensure that Anne could not have the same complaints about me. I had molded myself into exactly what I thought was the very image of husbandly perfection, and still, Anne had come to me a couple months ago telling me that she needed to feel loved. “What?! Everything I do is for the sole purpose of showing you how loved you are. How can I possibly do any more?” That conversation ended, and the subject didn’t come up again. I assumed she just needed to be reminded of those things she saw every day, and we were now all better. We weren’t all better though. She just gave up on trying to talk to me about it. Instead, she focused on the relationship that was giving her what she needed. She started spending more and more time on the phone with Dick, and I became more and more fearful of what was happening. My conditioned response to fear is to push it aside. Fear is a debilitating emotion in my book. It affects my decision making in way that can’t be allowed, so I suppress it. I’ve become very good at this. I burry my fear, and focus on the task. It’s a skill I learned as a soldier, and it had always served me well…I thought.
When I was five years old, I was at a friend’s house. We were in his kitchen when I watched his mother give him a hug and kiss and tell him that she loved him. It is one of my clearest childhood memories. When we got outside, I asked him if his mom always did that. “Sure…doesn’t yours?” was his response. I started waiting to hear my mother tell me she loved me that day. I would wait almost twenty years. My mother showed her love for her family by what she did for them. She prepared meals, cleaned the house, and generally put our interests ahead of her own. This is how she said “I love you”. I had become my mother. I knew from my childhood that it needed to be said with words, and Anne and I never let a day end without saying it to each other. She would say it, and I would answer “I love you too”. As I tucked my girls into bed every night, I would tell them that I loved them. I was NOT falling into the pattern my mom had fallen into. My family would never find themselves waiting to hear those words from me. I truly thought I had managed to take the best traits of my parents while avoiding their mistakes. I really, truly believed I was everything a husband and father should be.
The first time Dick called Anne, I was uncomfortable. She told me they had dated, but that it hadn’t been anything serious. They’d not had a physical relationship, and were just good friends. I had good friends who were girls. How was this any different? I was feeling jealousy. Jealousy was bad, and I would not let it come between my wife and me. I was going to be a good husband, set this feeling aside and be supportive. As the contact increased, I became more and more uncomfortable, but I had given my blessing. How could I take issue with this relationship now? His marriage was in trouble. He needed a friend, and Anne might really be able to help. How could I ask her to ignore a friend in need? A good husband wouldn’t be feeling this way. I wanted to be a good husband, so I pushed the feeling aside, put on my supportive face, and took care not to interrupt the conversations that were occurring more frequently and lasting longer. I was putting her feelings ahead of my own. I was being a good husband. Deep down, there was a very real fear that I was no longer first in Anne’s heart, and that if I tried to step between her and Dick, she would confirm my darkest fears. Instead, I put more effort into doing things to show her how much I loved her. I would do whatever it took to remind her just how lucky was to have me. I was going to be the best husband anyone had ever seen. I was, in my mind, the best husband anyone had ever had the weekend I sent Anne off to shop with her girlfriend. When she called, I encouraged her to have a great weekend. I assured her the kids and I were fine. When I found myself missing her and wanting to hear her voice, I forced myself to avoid calling. I didn’t want to interrupt her weekend. I was the perfect husband when Anne found herself in the arms of another. I was the perfect husband…

Date Night

Anne and I had always talked about how we needed to make time for us. We needed to schedule date nights every so often just to spend time together. Months came and went, but schedules or budgets never, or almost never, allowed us to follow through. We realize now that date nights can’t be treated as luxuries. They are necessities. We have promised to treat them as such from now on. Friday night was our first “post impact” date night. All day Friday I was as excited and nervous as I was the day of our very first date. In my contact with her that day, it was clear she was feeling the same. I went to get the sitter while she finished getting ready. When I got home, she took my breath away. She wasn’t dressed in anything especially stunning, but she looked beautiful. She was glowing, and my heart raced.
We went to dinner, visited a store we’d always talked about visiting, but hadn’t, and then went to catch a movie. We had planned to go roller skating, but it turned out that Friday nights are reserved for “teens and tweens”. For some reason we began discussing our daughters, our oldest mostly. Anne would be taking her bra shopping the next morning. Given that our oldest is ten, this would be a big deal. Anne planned to take her to Starbucks after for a little time to “talk”. Our conversation about our daughter and her growing up brought us to the subject of birth control. It’s a subject Anne is quite firm on and I’m somewhat torn over. As we debated this touchy issue I asked her about her “first time”. She hadn’t waited for marriage, neither had I. We both wished we had and I asked her to remember what she was thinking that night those years ago as she violated all she had been taught and told growing up. She said she was thinking, “I shouldn’t be doing this”, over and over. Out of nowhere, a knife entered my gut, and twisted. She’d used the very same words when I asked her to tell me what she was thinking and feeling that night with Dick. This couldn’t be happening. How had I let this come up on our date night? We found our seats and I excused myself to use the restroom. I didn’t need a restroom. I needed air. I went outside and walked all the way around the theater. We had 15 minutes until our show started, and I felt like I was dying inside. I had to get this out, we had to talk about it or it would have two hours to rip me apart. We used those 15 minutes to talk, cry and hold hands. The movie was funny and our evening wasn’t ruined.
Things hit when we least expect them. If we let them fester, they will only get worse. Even if we had needed to step outside together, “we” were more important than the movie. Nothing can be left unsaid. Nothing can be allowed to be more important than dealing with a hurt that is being felt by either of us. Talking together can ease any hurt, if we take the time to do the talking. I have no idea how long things will be this way. I don’t know if we will ever get past this to a point that a comment like the one made that night won’t tear open this wound I carry. I am learning that I love Anne for a reason, and that together, we are able to overcome anything.
The day I first talked to Mark about this, he told me that the fact that I went home the night before, told him I had already made up my mind to work this out. The fact was that when I woke up that day, the only question I was really trying to answer was which of us should move out. If he hadn’t been there, this would be a very different story. Every day since then has been a gift we both owe to him. I hope he knows how much we both appreciate it.

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

Anne was tired last night. As we watched TV together, she started talking about going to bed. I was nowhere near ready for bed, but her eyes were getting heavy. I didn’t want her to go without me. I mean I REALLY didn’t want her to go upstairs without me. Over the past year, she had headed up to our room a lot while I sat in front of the TV. Many of those nights she went up to chat with her friend on the phone. The thought of her going upstairs without me had triggered memories and feelings that hurt.
The contact between Anne and Dick (not her friend’s real name, but the first one to pop in my head) had developed quite some time ago. It didn’t seem like something I should be threatened by, and any troubles I had with it were dismissed as irrational in my mind. As the contact increased, I became less and less comfortable with it. There were so many nights that I wanted to go up and tell her to hang up the phone. There were many nights I thought about going up and just distracting her off the phone by kissing her neck or some other intimate contact. What if I had acted on these thoughts at the time? If I had voiced my feelings then, would we be in this now? What had kept me from her? The more I thought these thoughts, the more troubled I became. The fact was that as the situation developed, I became afraid of what I might learn if I tried to stop their contact. I was feeling that maybe he had become more important to her than me. What if that feeling was true? I told myself I was being stupid, held my feelings in, and gave her my blessing to continue. I told myself I was being supportive. I told myself that keeping my feelings to myself was the way to be a good husband. The idea that what I thought was being a good husband might be exactly what allowed this to happen was a disturbing thought.
It is obvious to me now, that I need to reexamine what it is to be a good husband. I certainly don’t have it nailed down yet, but one thing is obvious. It doesn’t center on keeping things to myself. Anne and I are getting better because we are talking to each other. Every thought and feeling gets aired and discussed. If holding in did, in fact, contribute to what happened, then communication is the key to healing.
I don’t know there is anything I can do to stop drifting to thoughts of what I did wrong. I do know that those thoughts are painful and distracting. What I should have done or could have done before is irrelevant now. That doesn’t keep them from coming to mind. I guess I just need to focus on using those thoughts to create a new, better future.
Don

Everything Changes

When Anne and I sat down for our first conversation after her confession, I warned her that everything she said and did from now on would be seen in context with her infidelity. For some reason, I find myself somewhat surprised by just how true that statement is turning out to be.
Our old marriage ended on Christmas night, but our relationship didn’t. We have all of our old memories, and looking at old photos of happier times served us well in remembering what we had risked, lost, and wanted to get back, but we also will carry the memories that can trip us up at times. We have lost our innocence, and that is both good and bad. The sense of comfort and security that lead us both to take each other for granted will be missed even as it helps us to appreciate each other more.
In my last post, I mentioned the flirty texts we have been exchanging. These have continued, and by the end of the day, I can’t wait to see her, but as we exchanged texts, troubling questions would pop up in my mind. She was using “:-*” to send me kisses. When I saw the first one, I couldn’t help but wonder where they had come from. It seemed unlikely that she had picked this up from her girlfriends. Had her “old friend” taught her this? While not exactly a nagging thought, it is still on my mind today. When she came home, I caught her and kissed her passionately. Even as I was enjoying her reaction, the thought crept in that, perhaps, if I had kissed her this way before, she might not have strayed. The past is a funny thing. It can’t be changed, but it colors everything. Every significant event in our past impacts our future. These impacts will be both good and bad. The trick is to build on the good, while limiting the effects of the bad. Anne and I are walking a tightrope. We don’t want to forget enough to repeat our pat mistakes, but we also don’t want to let our past cloud our future to the point that it tears us apart. Nothing we do now is insignificant anymore. That fact is a mixed blessing.
Keep us in your prayers,
Don

A long and Winding Road

Anne and I went out of town with our girls this last week. We traveled on New Year’s Day, so, after just one week, we were able to sit next to each other for several hours talking as we traveled. Our trip did take us down the same road she had traveled a few weeks before. We passed a sign that brought this fact to my mind, and as we got closer to the “scene of the crime”, my guts twisted and my chest tightened. I think I was having a panic attack over the thought of driving through the town where my wife had had her fling. I had to let her drive. She knew I was hurting, and she knew why. Tears ran down her cheeks as she drove. As we ran past the exits for the city, I realized that there wasn’t really anything for me to react to. We started talking again. I shared what I was feeling, and she shared what she was feeling. I might be the “wounded party” but we are both hurt by what has happened.
We had a genuinely good weekend. We talked a lot, hugged a lot, and … (if you’ve seen Mamma Mia, you know what this means) In many ways we are rebuilding our relationship from the ground up. Ten days ago I couldn’t believe that there could be any road past adultery for us. Today I not only truly believe we will get past it, but that we could be stronger for having gone through this trial. It is going to be a long and winding road. We have already seen ups and downs, but we are making it.
Today I found myself flirting with my wife by text message. I can’t remember the last time I flirted with her in any way. We are, in many ways, like wary newlyweds. As anxious as I am to put this behind us, I hope we never forget how close we came to losing us. Our marriage is something we are both appreciating in a way that was forgotten long ago. It will be a long time before we are able to take each other for granted again. I hope and pray we will remember enough to avoid that trap again.
Don

Search Your Feelings Luke

Written Dec. 31, 2008

When I left Mark, I truly believed that the pain and hurt I was feeling could be overcome. I believed that it was possible for my marriage to survive the injury of Anne’s infidelity. The question left in my mind was did I want my marriage to survive. As a Christian, I know that God hates divorce, but I also know that in this case, I had His blessing to end it. Did I really want to remain in my marriage?
The woman who walked in Christmas night was the woman I loved, and as much as I found myself wishing that the news she had hit me with had changed that, it had not. I still loved her. One of the ideas that I found most troubling was the feeling that it was the things about me that had made me a good husband, that had allowed this to happen. I had sent her off with my blessing, never guessing that she might be doing anything other than what she said she was going to do. I had helped her pack for crying out loud. I had spoken to her hours before the act and encouraged her to “enjoy her evening”. This line of thought took me to dark places. Had she enjoyed her evening? The imagery this thought brought to mind was devastating. How could I do this? How could I ever get these thoughts out of my mind? The fact was that the only way for me to move forward was to get answers to these questions.
Mark had told me that if I was going to get past this, I needed to decide what I would need from her, and to let her know what those things were. I had to think about what had been lost, and what it would take to get it back. I had to think about the hurt and face it head on. One of my first rational thoughts in all of this was that no matter how angry I felt, my anger was not going to be part of any healing. Not for me, not for her, not for us. I had to set it aside, and not let it be what I was being motivated by. My grandmother had once told me there was no good excuse for bad behavior. I could not let anything my wife had done lead me to act badly. I went home and told Anne we needed to talk.
We sat down and I told her that there were some things she needed to understand and agree to if we were going to have a chance. Any sense of security I had in our marriage had been destroyed. I told her that my right to feel secure had to trump her right to privacy. I needed to be free to check her phone, e-mail, purse, or anything else if I felt the need to reassure myself that she was being honest with me. She agreed. I told her that all things she said or did would be seen in the context of her infidelity. There would be no such thing as an inconsequential promise. If she said she was going to do something, she would have to treat that as a sacred promise to be kept at all costs. She agreed. The next step was harder.
Intimacy has always been very important for Anne and I. It is how we have always communicated those things that are so hard to put into words, but any thought of sex and Anne immediately brought images to my mind that were unbearable now. If we were going to go forward, I had questions that needed to be answered, even if I didn’t like the answers. Mark had told me that nagging questions would eat me alive. They had to be asked, and they had to be answered. Anne and I sat for another talk. I told her I didn’t want or need all the gory details, but that I needed to know what had happened and what she was thinking and feeling as they happened. She cried as she told me. It was hard for her to say and hard for me to hear, but it answered my questions, and allowed me to replace some images with new ones. Knowing allowed me to begin to make peace with the images in my mind, and ultimately allowed us to take our first tentative steps towards regaining intimacy. So far, this has been the hardest part. It has also been the most fruitful. Any question unanswered, or any nagging thought unacknowledged will eat you alive and undermine your efforts to heal and move forward. No matter how scary or ugly the thought or question, it need to be shared and answered. Good moments can go bad by the strangest of triggers. A single song lyric can lead to a sleepless night. If a thought troubles me for more than an hour, I need to tell her about it. It’s not easy. Nothing is easy right now. While one person can destroy a marriage, it takes two to rebuild one, and those two people have to communicate if they hope to succeed. So far, we are talking and working together. If that fails, we will fail, but so far, so good.
Don

My Wife Cheated- Endings and Beginnings

written Dec. 29, 2008

My life ended in a sense on Christmas night. I'm 41 years old, and have been in what I always thought was a very healthy marriage for 8+ years. We have three great kids. We've always been willing and able to talk to each other. We had it all together. I knew that my wife had been in contact with a male friend from high school. I knew that he and his wife were dealing with difficulties, and I knew that my wife was just giving him someone to talk to. I also knew that she had become an issue in their relationship, and had advised her to step back and remove herself. I wasn't comfortable with my wife being "the other woman" in his wife's eyes, but never even considered that there was anything more for me to worry about than her becoming a wedge in someone else’s marriage.

At 11pm Christmas night, that all changed. My wife confessed that a recent weekend spent with a girl friend to do some Christmas shopping was, in fact, a weekend with him, and that the weekend had involved far more than shopping and catching up with an old friend. My wife, the one thing in my world I KNEW would always be there for me, had given herself to another man. She had cheated on me.

I always thought I knew how I would react to this. I always knew I would be overcome by anger and hurt. I always knew that there could be no return if this ever happened. She knew this too. We had talked about it. We had discussed it as we watched couples we knew go through the devastation of infidelity. She KNEW I would leave her... and she did it anyway. I should be screaming. I should be throwing her stuff out the window. I should be done. The fact was I was numb. I wasn't yelling. I wasn't throwing things. I wasn't even sure where I was. This was another planet, and I didn't even know how I had gotten here. The only thing I knew was that I couldn't be here. I had to go... somewhere, anywhere but here.

I jumped in my truck and left. I needed to talk. I needed to drink. I needed something, but it was almost midnight on Christmas night. The bars were all closed, and as I struggled to think of someone I could go talk to, I realized I didn't have any friends like that anymore. The only person in my life I could talk to at midnight was my wife. It was dark and cold, and deep down I had a very real fear that if I remained out in this new unfamiliar world alone, I might very well not survive the night. What would happen to my kids?

It was the first time I'd considered them. What would happen to our three little girls? They needed me. How could I be the dad they needed me to be if I didn't go back? What would happen to them if I sent their mom away? I'd heard over and over that it is a mistake to keep a marriage going for the sake of the kids, but my kids are the reason I went home, and my kids are the reason I didn't send my wife packing when I got there. I bought a bottle of wine, and a pack of cigarettes (after celebrating one year smoke free in November), and I went home. We didn't say much to each other. I just sat and drank while she cried. She asked if she should sleep on the couch. I said no, because I didn't want the kids to wonder why she was there in the morning. I fell asleep starring at the ceiling while she cried. I was still numb.

The next day I left again. I had errands to run. I drove almost without thinking to the home of a friend from church. He had been here. His wife had put him on this same uncharted planet a couple years before. At the time, I couldn't believe he was keeping her. How could he possibly think there was any way to get past the impact of a cheating wife? How could he think he could ever forgive her? How did he think he could ever even begin to trust her again? I never asked him any of those questions. I had watched from a distance as he did the unthinkable. He had suffered the pain, and had found a way to rebuild his marriage. I needed to talk to him more than I needed to breathe. When I pulled up, he was home, but he was heading out with his kids. What was I going to do? I almost kept driving. I almost gave up right then and there, but I didn't. I stopped and told him I needed to talk. He asked if he could have twenty minutes to feed his kids. Twenty minutes seemed like more time than I had, but I said yes.

This friend (I'll call him Mark to protect his privacy) was waiting for me when I pulled up twenty minutes later. Mark and I drove and talked. I told him all the questions I'd never asked as he suffered the insufferable those years before, and told him that today I had to know the answers. I had to know how he was able to do what he had done. I needed a map out of this place I had found myself in. It's not for me to tell you what he shared with me that day. I will tell you that what he told me is the reason I am here four days later, believing that I can survive this, and that my wife and I can rebuild what we once had.

Before I went to Mark's house, I did a web search for "when she cheats", the results were not helpful. I'm hoping that this blog might be helpful to someone who finds themselves in this strange place, and that it might provide a map home for another couple. Anne (not my wife's real name) and I are only four days from impact, but we are talking, and we are seeing a way to move forward. It is going to be a long hard road. There will be good days and bad. I'm going to share our story in hopes than it will help us for me to share it, and in hopes that it might help someone else. I will try to post each day. If you are reading this, keep us in your prayers. If you need our prayers, please let me know. If our story helps in any way, let me know that too.

Best wishes,
Don