“I know you have no reason to believe what I am going to say to you. I am a changed man. I want you and our life, this life. I will never risk it again. I know what caused me to do it and I don’t want that life. I hope one day you can start to see changes in me and I can begin to earn trust back little by little.” 

The Player said those words to me before his last business trip. Of course, he then got on a plane and returned to the scene of the many crimes. I’m thrilled to report that I am not traumatized by it this time. This is probably the first time I’m not really triggered by a trip to the scene of the Triple Fs: fratinizing, flirting and fucking. Maybe there was a twinge of something, It provoked some thoughts but I didn’t go down the bad road and stay there. Sure, I’d rather he didn’t travel but all of the things I’ve done to help myself have made his traveling tolerable.

I think all the help has helped. I’m doing very well with my life, my circumstances.

When I found out that he wasn’t who he proclaimed to be and we were still “working on it” and then really working on it several months later, I lost all of the joy of his traveling. I’ve recently found it again. I think it sits along side my strength, resolve, independence and resilience. It probably is surrounded by a good heaping dose of I’ll-Survive-Whatever-The-Fuck-Happens resolve, too.

When we had that conversation about him traveling and he was – it seemed anyway – sincerely pouring his heart out to me, I briefly had a thought about me and us. I thought, “Am I just pretending along here, with him?” Since my goal was to keep the family together and peaceful and happy, I reasoned that I could have moved myself right into a State of Peace with it all. Maybe that peace just involves me piling on a big shovel of acceptance with a side of whatever. 

I said, “If you can stay the course, I think we can rebuild a decent life together. I think we can even be happy again. I do have to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll ever give you the inner sweet part of me again, you know, that blind trust. I’m different now, I won’t ever be that person again. I am not sure I’ll ever be able to be that vulnerable with you. I just know myself and while I think we can be happy, there’s a part of me you probably won’t ever reach again.”

He said he understood that, if a little sad at the time. He said something about how he believes that me even thinking of a future together makes me vulnerable. I ended with something, “No, the difference is, I know I can’t control you, I know what you’re capable of, but I also know I’ll never be that shocked again, no matter what you do. I’ll survive it, and I’d venture to say, I’d even thrive.” I continued, “You got all my shock for a lifetime. I have none left.” 

Then I fucked him. Because we still do that well. I don’t think he’s stupid enough to think that raw sex makes me vulnerable. Or maybe he does. I guess that’s his problem, right?



The Path

I’ve been doing well on the path I’m on lately. I can very nearly picture us surviving this bullshit – for how long, one never knows, do we? Hypnosis is helping with the trauma, joint therapy is helping us bond, talking things out with The Player and my ability to move past some things are helping us as a couple and helping me to not stay emersed in pain. Like I said, real progress. Or what I believe to be real progress because, as we all know, we can only control ourselves. To the best of my knowledge on what I see and is communicated to me, The Player is learning a lot by gaining insight into his issues that are helping explain why the fuck he did what he did. He shares all of that insight (his offering instead of 12-steps) with me. 

Tonight I had a minor setback I’m sure I’ll move on from, but sometimes I seriously wonder how in the hell he did it. Like what did he have to tell himself to do it?  To follow through with fucking them, taking them on dates, you know? To then call me after he fucked someone and act like all was well? What did he have to tell himself to take one of the whores to our retreat? Was it entitlement? Was it codependency (he’s learned he would do anything to keep them interested in him to feed that  empty bottomless pit of self doubt)? What did he tell himself to do those things then come home and be a loving husband and father?

He said he’s still looking for answers to those questions I have. He said he won’t stop looking because things are better between us. He said he’s more of a whole person than he’s been in his entire life. I believe him. Like I said, I can (very nearly, almost for sure) picture us moving forward in a new life together. 

Every once in a while the old life – the one he had without me – makes me doubt I have it in me to build a new life with him. Then I remember that I’m strong and feirce. I remember that I’ve survived the worst betrayal known to marriage, by someone I was supposed to trust the most.  I remember that I’m not defined by what he’s done, I’m defined by what I do. I’ve let us try to put our family back together after giving him years – yes, years – to get his shit together. 

That is nothing short of amazing by someone in my position. 

So while these doubts creep in, in the form of visions of him with other women or questions I still have to what he told himself to be able to do it, I am focused. Only to heal and take care of myself. I am cautious but optimistic and I’m better prepared and can never be blindsided as I once was. I’m realistic in life but not living in fear. 

There’s a lot he’s done to me and there’s a lot those whores did to me, but giving them my choice – no wait, my right to live well and happy? They are not getting that, no way. I am forever closed to that possibility. 

If you think about it, it’s really the people who betray who will (if they aren’t sociopaths) end up having to live with the fact that they’ll always be the one who cheated. Always the one who betrayed. Always the one who created immeasurable pain to people who freely (and blindly, as with me, big sigh) gave themselves, their trust and vulnerability and placed it in their hands to protect. 

Can you imagine living knowing you did that to someone you love? I can’t. 

Of the two? I’ll take my path over The Player’s any day of the week. I’ll be able to some day let go (fully) of all the images I’ve worked hard to dismiss, and let go of the pain he caused, but The Player won’t ever be able to live without knowing he was the kind of person who crushed and killed the pure love in someone who trusted him most. 

The Audacity. 

I was roaming on Facebook and it hit me that The Player had gigantic fucking balls and arrogance to be friends on Facebook with some of his affair partners. 

Remember, he quit fucking all of them but remained friends so he could harvest the admiration of them ongoing. What must their fuckedupness be to put up with being used for semen deposits then continuing to be a source of flirting for The Player? Fucking pathetic, both him and them. 

This means these whores had a front seat view to look into our lives. I won’t forget how the last whore used one of our kids’ nickname I started. They often talked causally about our kids and their daily lives. 

When I busted The Player and went on a hunting expedition for information, I found comments from the last whore on his Facebook updates on our kids. 

Nothing surprises me yet everything still does when I really think about it. How can that be?

They were some serious idiots. When sex addicts (or assholes) are getting their kicks, they are stupid – and arrogant – as fuck.