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  • Adam 4:54 am on October 30, 2014 Permalink
    Tags: , cheating, counseling, despair, destroyed, friendship, hate, , , sobbing, ,   

    Revenge is a Dish Best not Served at all 

    In my many musings, I often would think of every worst case scenario. I thought of Carrie fucking everyone from my best friend to random female strangers and male strippers. I knew on some level that I had struck a huge blow by cheating and that she was not only hurt, but DEVASTATED.

    I’ve noticed this odd behavior of hers but couldn’t chalk it up to more than anger and grief. We finally went to our first session of couples counseling and it went as well as could be expected. There was tears and re-visiting everything that’s happened.

    Afterward, Carrie told me she had a confession. She’d slept with one of my friends. Not just any friend but a sad, depressed, wreck of a guy whom I had made great efforts to just bring back into my life. I won’t gossip on here with names in that manner. Suffice to say it struck a huge blow. She had ‘done it back to me’ the pain I suffered the hurt, it all came home for me.

    I felt a taste, a bitter pang of everything she must have felt when this happened. It made me hate myself a little, it made me hate her a little.

    I’m proud of myself. I took it well. I heard her out, I didn’t get angry or freak out. I simply told her that I had considered a possibility like this already, and already reached my conclusion. It doesn’t matter. I won’t let that derail me. I still love her, I still want to be with her. Meaningless, depressed, anger/revenge sex is just a shot across the bow. A bit of comfort, and a bit of fuck you too.

    On some level I think I deserve it. I hurt her so deeply that I can’t really point the finger back at her. She’s got me so soundly in a corner that all I can do is focus on the bigger picture. She’s my wife, she’s incredibly important to me, she’s the person I’d like to spend my life with. This too shall pass.

    I told her – “I still love you, I still want to make this work, and I don’t hate you” I told her how I understand how things like this happen, better than anyone – I understand. Reaching out in despair and sadness for sexual comfort is, after all, exactly how I got in this situation. I almost feel like maybe now she understands my sadness, how this could happen. I know how this can eat away at you and I told her I’m glad she was honest and I’m glad it’s off her chest.

    The next day the backlash hit me like a storm. One minute I’m driving the car, the next I’m sobbing like a child. The next I’m raging, screaming at the sky, the road, god, the devil. Why? Why do I deserve this? What have I done wrong? God it’s me being a hypocrite. But it still hurts, it still cuts so deep my heart is missing a huge piece.

    I felt empty, sad, out of steam, out of energy. Like I’ve tried so hard and had this thrown in my face after doing everything right, everything noble. Changing my life, facing my problems head-on while she drinks and fucks my friend and cries.

    I killed the friendship. I wrote him a simple short letter and said I can’t abide a friend who would do this. That our friendship is over. I don’t hate him, I know he’s just self-absorbed, damaged, depressed. But he’s not healthy, he’s a wreck and a wreck who will burn down his closest friends for a moment of comfort. I’m better off without him. Still I’m down another friend in this long road to redemption. If it ever comes.

    • The next day. My friend Jay told me that he’d talked to Carrie. That he thinks I’m barking up the wrong tree. That she flat-out doesn’t want to be in the relationship. That she wants to be single, hurt, damaged and irresponsible. I’m torn. I’m so torn right down the middle. I never ever want to abandon her. Despite the hurt I’ve caused I love her like I love my own soul. I will never let her fall if I can catch her. But she won’t let me.

    I ranted, screamed, hated, cried and cried again. But I did it all myself. I didn’t unload on her. I left it on a positive note. Then I scheduled our next couples therapy. All that’s left to find out, after all this. Is if she’ll go again. I’m beyond hoping for a quick fix, I’m past thinking this will be easy in any way whatsoever. I’m just moment to moment. Week to week.

    Tomorrow I’ll find out if she’s going to still try, if she’s willing to go again. It’s not an ultimatum. I’m just going to ask, to tell her. “I want this, I want you. Please go with me. ” and she will or she won’t.  My life has hung in the balance so many times, I’m too drained to hope. I’m too damned to pray. I’m just staying on my path. Being healthy, being whole. Trying to find my wife again, in this mess we call life.

     
  • Adam 11:18 am on September 29, 2014 Permalink
    Tags: , cheating, collapse, , guilt, , mistakes, , ,   

    Phase 10: Full Circle 

    That kind of brings us to now. I have always had a high sex drive. I’ve dated people I didn’t like and done things I’m embarrassed about. Before I met Carrie, I had awkward one-night stands, weird relationships, marathon porn sessions. Most of that stopped after Carrie and I started dating, well everything except the porn.

    After a few years into our relationship, we started trying ‘swinging’ with another couple. And it was two nice attractive people who seemed to like both of us physically, even though I was not looking so great. For a while it was a balm to my ego and it made me feel like not only can we handle this, but that it’s good for us. It made me feel wanted, and made me feel like there was someone else who would also sleep with me.

    I couldn’t be that bad could I? I mean TWO women are willing to sleep with me on occasion and they’re both gorgeous. It’s something I clung to night after night when Carrie would roll away from me, annoyed at my fumbling attempts to just ‘get off’.

    Oh do my problems stop? Nope. I’m a womanizer.

    Not in the classic 1950’s sense of “A man who treats women poorly or engages in multiple sex-based relationships” more like “A man who flirts constantly, gropes women, and generally acts like he’s single when he’s not”.

    When I was younger I used to just be a flirt, maybe a little over-confident at times, and fairly notorious when I was drunk. But I never thought of myself as someone who made people uncomfortable. I’ve found over time and over the years, that I got worse and worse. More and more bold with people.

    I’ve gotten warned away from people’s girlfriends. I’ve had to make awkward apologies. It got to the point where people would warn other people before meeting me. He’s “Handsy” they would say, or “Doesn’t have boundaries”.

    It’s taken me a while but as I got more and more heavy, more unattractive and more unhappy. I would reach out more and more to everyone around me. If I could grab-ass a little and kiss the girls I must still have “it” right? I felt so bad all the time about how I looked the only way I could get through the weekend was to push boundaries and feel sexy. Most of the time I did this just as readily in front of Carrie as behind her back. It seems like I’m scum, but I honestly did want her to know. I’m not doing this as a secret. This isn’t a “cheating method” this is a just me being me, and if I’m not hiding it from own wife, how much harm could it really do?

    Carrie would tell me how embarrassed she would get at parties when people would ask her “Why do you let him do that?” and she would shrug and say “Oh he doesn’t mean anything by it”. I guess frankly I didn’t. I didn’t want to sleep with everyone, I just wanted to feel like I was the same old Adam who used to break hearts and change women frequently. The Adam that didn’t have a weight problem and people thought was dashing, handsome and charismatic.

    I do at least assure you, I was all those things at some point.

    I think eventually I got by on pure charisma, and then eventually I got by on feeling up women and breaking boundaries.

    One month came along where Carrie was gone for four weekends in a row. She was off showing her prize goats, which she loves to do and it made her happy. I was feeling particularly low when she sat me down and told me that she would be gone for four weekends in a row. Because of our work schedules we didn’t see each other much during the week and I knew with her gone during the weekend that I would be largely alone for an entire month.

    I actually welcomed the solitude. There were times where I was depressed and I just wanted to be alone. These four weekends I actually took the time to be by myself and for the most part I enjoyed it. Things had been strained between us for a while, maybe a break is what I needed.

    For the first few weeks I lazed around and enjoyed myself and it wasn’t so bad. I even got some thinking done about my life. On the fourth weekend things it started to get old and I found myself missing her more and more.

    I remember resenting that she was gone for so long and that she didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t with her. She seemed preoccupied with what she was doing and all I could think about was that I was by myself and no one seemed to care.

    That weekend I proceeded to get drunk at home by myself. I put away a few glasses of whiskey and started texting with people one of them was my old coworker Liz who told me that she was going to quit drinking and that this was her final day to drink. I guess at that point I kind of knew what I was doing although I definitely had some liquid courage in me. I invited her over and we ended up drinking even more together.

    A lot of it’s a blur but I remember making a move and having it reciprocated and things quickly escalating. we ended up in the bedroom and thanks to alcohol, there wasn’t much I could actually accomplish. It’s safe to say that I basically embarrassed myself – and while it was wholly inappropriate – it didn’t go well.

    The whole endeavor took about 20 minutes and afterwards sobriety came crashing in. We both stood there awkwardly, she asked if we could still be friends, I told her yes that we could be friends and while it was clear we both regretted what we had done. We mutually agreed to put it behind us and pretend it hadn’t happened.

    About two months went by and in that time I experienced a lot of guilt I thought about telling Carrie in 1000 different ways what had happened. I even thought maybe if I came clean the right way that she wouldn’t be THAT mad – that she might understand. We had had these experiences with other people and maybe she was open-minded enough to see that this wasn’t as bad as it could be and it was just a mistake.

    I actually started to clean up my act. I think it was the first glimmer I’d had in a long time that something was seriously wrong and it wasn’t going to go away on its own. I started helping more and volunteering more. For a while I actually felt like maybe I was starting to change and be a better husband. Maybe that’s part of why I kept silent.

    Ultimately I was afraid. I knew there was every chance that I had blown everything and if there was a chance that it would ruin everything I couldn’t risk it. They often say that confessing an affair is often relieving your own guilt and putting the burden on the other person and I guess I thought maybe I was doing her a favor or the right thing.

    As most secrets do – It all came out and in a single hour – and in a single day my life collapsed.

     
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