The Breakup with Ground Zero Whore

I should say breakups. There were multiple. Five? Or is it seven? They all started blending together so I don’t really have any idea.

Horrific Day One or “D-day”

He tells me he sent her a note and said he had to end it because I found out. What he tells her is he’ll be in touch when he can.

Day Two

He sends text messages of him breaking up with her again because I find proof he hasn’t. He tells me the affair is pretty much my fault. I talk about our kids too much, I’m fat and he doesn’t like to do anything with me anymore, so we have nothing in common. What he tells her is he still wants her and he’ll find a way to see her soon. He says he developed feelings for her and he’s sorry for the mess he’s created for her.

Days Three – 3-7

He tells me he’s confused but *thinks* he wants to work it out. What he tells her is he can’t text often but he will be in touch and he misses her so much, it hurts.

Day 7

I find deleted messages and proof he’s called her and spoke to her several times since I found out. I leave our home to retreat to a friend’s home. He comes after me later in the day and says it’s over with her, he will end it. This time for real. He spends the next several hours texting with her back and forth because she is with her children so they can’t talk live. Several things were texted between them but he finally said while there were a lot of problems in his marriage, he loved his wife and needed to “focus” attention on the marriage (he says this during a lot of his breakups with her and others I’ve since learned). She types she is crying. He says, “Me too.” He was crying. It was while sitting on our marital bed. Can you believe that fucking shit? Me, either. He types he’s so sorry for the pain he caused her. He’s sorry they didn’t get to do everything they planned to do but was happy for the memories he did have of them together.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I touched his back, said I know that must have been hard because he is letting go of a fantasy and an escape, but reminded him what he had with a few month’s (free) whore wasn’t real. I say, “You’re not sad about her, you’re sad you were busted and you don’t get the escape anymore.”

He disagrees. He said, “It’s real to me. I miss her. It was about her. It feels unfinished.”

I say, “If you want to keep her, you absolutely can. But you can’t have me. Please, let me go. Let’s divorce. Do you want to get a divorce?”

He said, “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if we did divorce.”

Then my heart breaks and will never not show those cracks, no matter how much he tries to glue it back together.

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Fucking without Condoms

Okay, so you want to have an affair. For whatever reason you’re going to act like an asshole to your spouse and family and your morals, if you have any. You’ve made the decision to turn your back on your value system, your vows.

Fine. Whatthefuckever.

But what right do you think you have to fuck someone without a condom? I think of all of the points about the betrayals (damn, the fucking lies on top of mutherfucking lies) the worst is knowing that you put my life at risk because you couldn’t put a fucking condom on your dick. There are 17-year-olds having sex with condoms. Let’s not even talk about pregnancy (and no, your saying “She said she was on birth control…” doesn’t cut it because shit, you trust her? A whore willing to fuck you while your married? That was a great idea.) and the risk. But the putting me at risk for any number of diseases and infections? Life changing diseases and infections. Possible death.

Kiss my ass you heartless asshole. You’ve got some mutherfucking explaining to do.

Here’s an entire site dedicated to sending you condoms. Get some balls and buy some if you’re going to fuck around on your spouse. This goes for you too women, tell that man whore you’re going to fuck to wrap that dick up.

The World Triggers Me

I am sitting with my husband for lunch. On this day, it is exactly 12 months since he was in the middle of his last affair, the affair that brought the house to come tumbling down. The irony of what I witness and realize in a matter of moments, on this day specifically, isn’t lost on me.

Luckily for me, his cheating was escalating and compulsive or I might have never known he wasn’t who I thought he was and that my life and marriage weren’t nearly as special as I thought they were. In fact, I’m learning, they weren’t special at all.

On this day at lunch, I avert my eyes downward because I notice her first. His type. He has a type you know. She is young, tall, and thin and has long brown hair.  She’s wearing a short skirt with high heels. I internally role my eyes and sigh. Without noticing I’m noticing, he spots her. I absolutely know he will look her up and down.

I glance up, for just a second; to see if I’m right but hoping I’m not. He is still talking to me about something as his eyes go down and back up, just for a couple of seconds, the backside of her as she walks past him but he thinks he’s hiding it from me. He is wrong. Over the years he’s always been wrong. I’ve always noticed.

It didn’t bother me before I knew the real him. It didn’t bother me before because I knew he was mine and mine alone. It didn’t bother me because we had a bond so special it couldn’t be broken. Or so I thought. It turns out he wasn’t only mine. His attention and affection belonged to a lot of other women, too. To the world, apparently. The world has become a trigger.

Whereas I never compared myself to others he fucked with his eyes I do now. Before, always knowing I’m beautiful and sensual and when I found out about his affairs, not knowing if I could even hold his attention and frankly, maybe not wanting to anyway.

Since I’ve learned about his multiple affairs, and the details surrounding them, I’m not the same person. I know the affairs aren’t about what is lacking in me or in our relationship but is what is lacking in him and him alone. Knowing it is his inadequacies doesn’t making knowing the details any easier. I still want to be someone’s first and only choice. I want to be with someone who respects me, appreciates my gifts and is monogamous. Or I want no one.

“I didn’t really think of you at all,” he said the day I found out about the last affair that broke his double life wide open for me to see. The professionals say he’s a sex addict. Is that even a real thing or do cheaters and therapists use it to excuse the behavior of people who lack character and morals? Is it used as a way to explain and justify the behavior of someone who lives without a value system to keep them from doing what they know to be right?

It is on this day at lunch with my husband that I realize I might not be able to see him through his transformation to the person he professes he wants to be and the person I thought he was. It didn’t occur to me before this very moment at lunch with the long legged girl walking by that it isn’t about him and what he can’t or won’t be able to do to be faithful but it’s really about what I want for my life or more importantly, what I don’t want for my life. Do I want to live with a “sex addict” for the rest of my days? In the days and years ahead, do I want to be at lunch with my husband and wondering if he’ll be pursuing other women for an ego boost, temporary high, or maybe working on getting one in bed for a thrill?

I’m not so sure he is worth it.

Stupidity

Cheaters can be really stupid when they are in the middle of fucking whore or dick (literally) heaven.

When they are found out and aren’t ready to give up the dream of (free) whore pussy (and ego and dick stroking) they will do some stupid shit. If you think your spouse is still in the fantasyland after they’ve been found out listen to your intuition. I did and it paid off. I was able to address that bullshit right then. I found out he quit seeing her a few weeks earlier and had – on his own – decided to commit to the marriage. The day I found out he spent some extra weeks seeing that (free) whore? The wife (me) had a whole new list of rules for my (un)committed asshole.

What you say?

He lost every single right he had previously. Nada. Single. One. Or he could move out because I wasn’t willing to be in a relationship with him and another woman.

What’s next?

He said he would end it.

He said he regretted it.

He said he knew it was wrong.

He said he got “carried away.”

He said let’s work it out.

Those were all lies.

His head was still up his ass or in her vagina. He snuck around for the next several weeks and communicated with her through friends, secret phones, and email. He kept it out of the home mostly but when he or I left town on business it was all about her. He just forgot to tell me. On my side he was telling me he wanted to work it out. I believe he did. He just didn’t want to give up her and the escape. He could escape into a fantasyland with her with no responsibilities, no children, no stressors. Fuck, it made me want a girlfriend.

I kept finding reasons why I thought they were communicating but he flat-out denied it to my face. “No, I promise.” When I found proof, he’d already ended it, but it set us back months of progress.

No one ever told him that when a spouse finds out about an affair and there isn’t full transparency from that point on, the odds of staying together successfully go down exponentially. There were lies for months. He broke me. He broke us.

We have a complicated life with our children and while I wish it was easy and possible to have had him move out it just wasn’t. I came very close to making that a requirement but he began counseling and was doing all the right things a betrayer who was trying to reconcile would need to do, except tell the truth where there were omissions.

He was keeping his dick in his pants. He quit flirting. He quit checking Facebook pages of the many women he was attracted to obsessively. He was doing everything right. Only it just didn’t feel right. I’d been holding back on full, jumping feet in reconciliation. I had no idea why other than I was married to a deceptive man and it was more than I cared to deal with.

Waking up with a Cheater

My husband forgot to tell me I was in a three-way relationship. Only he and his affair partner knew it.

It was unusually early for me to get up when I turned over my phone and saw 5:30am because I never wake up on my own before 7:30 and especially on the weekend. Looking for a membership number on the husband’s phone. I saw it. A notification for text messages to and from “Michael.”

As I slid the open bar on the phone I notice the password had changed. My husband is nothing if not predicable about some things. He had changed his password to one of his regular few he rotates. I move the text conversation up and down with my thumb and loaded more of the messages that only went back a couple of days and my heart sank. I saw what millions of other partners see. My husband was having an affair.

She had the attention of my husband for just a few months. Though they were both married, they were continually texting about me, our marriage, our sex life, our children, our work and our home life and everything about her life as well. She spoke of the sexual dissatisfaction with her sex life, too. My husband was making plans to see her again and she talked about wanting to move to our city. They were counting the days until their next betrayal against their spouses. Count these messages among the first of many things I never thought I would read.

Until I picked up his phone I didn’t suspect a thing. Through the texts and emails you can read where there were a couple of near misses on both their parts. Him texting right beside me and mentioning I just walked in on him getting aroused or me asking who he was texting – there always “a crisis at the office,” I’d hear. There were many times one or all of our kids were with him. My personal favorite was went I lay asleep peacefully next to him, all the while his fingers were moving and he’s talking of wanting her to wake up next to him. Her missing him desperately within days of meeting. Both of them surprised at the depth of feelings they had for each other so quickly. Her texting took place next to her husband and in her bathroom away from her husband. Sitting at dinner with her family. They were texting all day and night. Thousands of text messages between the two. They spoke live frequently. I learned it was my husband who made the first aggressive move.

Over the first 24 hours I told three people. I spent several hours at one friend’s house, I spent two hours driving around – I do not know where – and I spent an hour sitting at airport wondering if I should get on a plane to anywhere this wasn’t happening. Reluctantly, I returned home. I started to investigate. On the second night I downloaded deleted messages (my husband didn’t know that was possible) and read first-hand how the relationship built and how quickly it moved from meeting to sexting, phone sex and meeting in person and obsessively communicating in all forms for months. In just under two hours while he slept I had several pages of text messages, a sheet of the whore’s information as well as her husband’s, pictures of them both and pages of phone calls with their dates and minutes talked and calendar dates that lined up with the times he met her.

I had him. Nowhere to hide now. Wake up, mutherfucker.

The Beginning of the End of Ignorance

A borrowed mobile phone to check a phone number with a suspicious message on the screen led me to the end of my marriage as I knew it. In under a minute after picking up the phone, I knew I was married to a cheater. To say I was shocked doesn’t do what I felt justice. The world under my feet shook and my life was never the same.

I’d uncovered an affair. Little did I know it was affair number one. One of many. During the first few days after D-day (“Discovery” day, often referred to as d-day because it feels like a war zone to the betrayed) I learned there was one prior short affair, “a mistake,” he said, “It was years ago.”

The affair I caught had just begun but was unlike the others. My husband spent the better part of each day communicating with her via calls, text messages, Facebook and emails. It was just a few months long. She is what I refer to as Ground Zero Whore.

What followed over the next few weeks can only be described as hell. I didn’t know at the time it was the hell that was only the beginning.

My life as I knew it was over.