What Is It That I Want?

In the real world, there are only two people who know what has happened in my marriage from my perspective. One is a local friend who only knows the very basics that DH cheated and that I was having a breakdown and needed someone to talk me down from the ledge the day I found out. She doesn't know any details, and thankfully, she has never asked. She just tries to be there for me.

The other person who knows is a good friend from college whom I haven't seen since we graduated. She lives 2000 miles away from me. We will go months without talking, and then when we call again, it's like we were never apart. I hadn't spoken to her in far too long, and a few days ago, I gave her a call. We have spoken three times in the last three days.

Yesterday, we had a long discussion over the phone while she was caught in traffic for over an hour. She tends to be a straight forward person anyway, but the frustrations of the freeway made her even more direct.

She knows most of the details of my life both before and after DH's affair. Yesterday, I brought her up to speed on the email from TOW (which I still know nothing more about) and the recent sex (which has been frequent and fabulous). Her responses left me a lot to think about.

First of all, she thinks that as far as the frustration of not knowing what's going on between DH and TOW, I'm pretty much getting what I deserve. She asked me what I expected to see when I invaded his privacy and went through his work email. (It's not that she's morally opposed to me spying - she actually encouraged me to spy as much as I could and get as much as possible printed as hard evidence in case we ever get divorced.) She said that in her opinion I was fishing for proof of my insecurities, and then I was surprised by what I caught.

She thinks that I should ask DH directly if he has heard from TOW recently. She said I should try to be non-threatening and non-defensive, and ask as if it's random curiosity. If he tells me the truth - great. If not, then at least I will know that he is trying to hide things from me.

It left me with something to think about, but I'm not convinced that it is that easy.

The other thing she made me think about was what my actual goal is in all of this. don't have her exact words, but her rant basically boils down to this:

"What is it that you want? You and DH have been married for 10 years. He has a good job and doesn't give you a hard time about the fact that you completely gave up the career that he helped you build so that you could stay home with the kids. He doesn't give you a hard time about the fact that you hated being a stay at home mom and went back to work at a part time job that you love, but where you make no money. He is a great dad. The kids adore him. He remembers your birthday. He goes golfing with your dad. You have an amazing sex life, and he understands that you're a bit of a freak in the sack. (I'm pretty sure that she was just giving me a hard time with that point. I think.)

A lot of people would gladly switch lives with you right now. So what is it that you want? You don't get to have a time machine. You can't go back and change the past. Neither can he.

So what do you want?"

Me: I want to be loved.

BF: He does love you.

Me: I want to be appreciated.

BF: What do you think all the freaky sex is about? Or the support of your job? He does appreciate you.

Me: I want to be enough for him.

BF: So, what are you going to do if you're not?

.
.
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Dead silence. The answer is, I just don't know.

I have a lot to think about.


Oh, and to my musing about potentially having an affair of my own (although I prefaced that part of the talk by saying that I had pretty much decided against it) her reply was, "Man, for a smart girl you say stupid things. Like an affair could possibly do anything except make you even more messed up."

I love the fact that she tells me what she thinks. I only wish I understood what I think nearly as well.

Mind / Body Connection

Sometimes, I think that the wires between my mind and my body have a serious short circuit issue.

For the past few days, DH and I have been cordially coexisting. We are speaking politely, doing normal family activities together, and keeping up all pretenses of a happy, healthy relationship. But there is unspeakable tension swirling in the air because I don't know what's going on with TOW, and he doesn't know why I am a bundle of nerves.

He went to work yesterday. I spent yesterday running menial errands for my son's Kindergarten teacher, as it was my turn to be the volunteer 'room-mom'. We came home. We ate dinner. We took turns yelling at our daughter to do her homework. He channel surfed, fruitlessly looking for anything that involved keeping score, while I poured over seed catalogs and asked his opinion about plants that he has never heard of. We sent the kids to bed. We pretended to watch TV while he reviewed documents for work and I attempted unsuccessfully to fix a broken zipper on my daughter's favorite skirt. Then we went to bed.

Nothing about the day appears out of the ordinary, but there was no connection between us the entire time. The walls of civility were firmly in place, keeping us separated as we fruitlessly tried to pretend everything was normal.

We were lying in bed, each on our own side, curled in loose fetal positions, back to back but not quite touching. I was just beginning to doze off, when DH, who is always restless when he sleeps, began to change positions. After turning to his stomach for a moment, then flipping to his back briefly, he ended up curled against my back, snuggling like spoons.

After lying in that position for a moment, his arm came around me, gently pulling me a bit closer. I didn't even think about it, I wiggled myself tighter against him and hugged his arm to my chest.

It seems that this was all the encouragement DH needed. Suddenly the gentle arm around me tightened into iron, and his other hand was twisted in my hair, pulling my head to an unnatural angle so that his lips would have full access to my throat. Like flipping a switch, my body instantly responded to his show of force by becoming completely submissive.

His fist tightened in my hair and a quiet sigh escaped from my lips. He was roughly kissing the nape of my neck, his teeth as involved as his lips. His other hand sought my breasts, my nipples began straining through the thin cotton tee shirt I wore to bed.

Mere moments later, I was flipped onto my back and he was on top of me, pulling my shirt over my head, but leaving it bunched around my wrists as a soft restraint for my movements. His mouth began to travel down my body, kissing and biting my collar bones, my breasts, the sides of my ribs. His tongue started tracing the quivering flesh of my abdomen, raising goosebumps on my confined arms.

His tongue found the hollow next to my hip bone, and his hands made quick work of the silky pajama shorts I was wearing. His warm breath sighed across my smoothly shaved pelvis and he pulled my right leg onto his shoulder so that he could have complete access to the swollen folds of flesh.

His hands grasped the flesh of my ass, pulling me towards him as his tongue discovered the extent of my excitement. He licked and nibbled for only a moment before pulling away. He chuckled softly at my whimpered protest, and I could feel that he was wriggling out of the boxers he had worn to bed.

Without any further warning, I felt myself bent nearly in half. With one leg still caught on top of his shoulder, he buried the length of his rigid cock in me in a single forceful stroke. He held perfectly still for a moment, our bodies pressed against each other as he stretched my inner walls. Then, he slowly began to rock against me, establishing a rhythm that caused my breath to catch in my throat.

I lay under him, pinned with one leg up, one leg down, and my hand caught in folds of soft cotton. I had no movement, except for what he allowed me, and he was completely in control. Yet despite this dominance, he was utterly tender.

He softly kissed where his lips could reach, covering my temples, my eyebrows, and the top of my head. The slow, methodical rhythm of our coupling was almost frustrating in its gentleness. I found myself writhing against him seeking the release that my body was demanding.

I must not have been the only one who needed that release, because soon his pace began to quicken. I could hear the change in his breathing as he tried to keep control and his body started pounding against mine. The combination of dominant and gentle, tender and forceful was soon more than my body could contain, and I felt myself reaching the point of no return.

My orgasm broke over me like a wave, ripples of pleasure passing through my body. DH must have been holding back to allow my gratification first, because within seconds of feeling the quivering of my inner walls, he followed me over that edge. Our bodies reacted to each other, extending the pleasure we each were feeling.

Breathless and satiated, DH took a moment to release my hands from their cotton bonds and take my leg off of his shoulder before collapsing against me. We lay there, sweaty and intertwined. Still connected intimately, I could feel his heart beating against my chest even as I felt him softening inside of me. And in that moment, all felt right with the world.

We slept soundly last night, wrapped in each other's arms. And when I woke this morning, I felt content for the first time in nearly a week.

The thing is, nothing has changed. I still have no idea what DH is doing or what is going on with TOW. I know that he still has a profile on Ashley Madison, though I don't know if he is actually actively pursuing anyone. My life is still in a state of upheaval, yet all I can think about is the delicious soreness in the overstretched hamstring of my right leg.

My brain, which was sad and hurt, had no control over the way my body reacted to DH last night, but clearly, my satisfied body does have control over the way my mind is working this morning. I doubt that this will last, so I am going to enjoy it now while I can.

Does this make me as much of a freak as I think it does, or do other people have this backwards mind/body connection as well?

Walking on Egg Shells

It's been two full days since I saw the email, and my husband still hasn't said a word to me about it. Then again, I haven't said anything to him either. It's an interesting little stand-off we have here. Neither of us is even sure the other one is taking part in the duel, let alone getting ready to draw.

DH was clearly looking for a way to get out of the house this morning, probably because the tension is beginning to be palpable. After about half an hour of wandering around in the garage, he announced that he needed to go to the store and by something new for the upcoming golf tournament for his work.

This impromptu shopping trip seemed to me to be a perfect alibi to go meet with TOW, so I immediately suggested that he take our daughter with him and buy her the new shoes that she needs for basketball. As soon as the words left my mouth, I instantly regretted them. I have always promised myself that no matter what happens between DH and me, I will not put the kids in the middle. I feel like I came dangerously close to crossing that line.

Regardless, DH didn't hesitate. He agreed that it was a good idea, and now he and my daughter are having a bit of quality time together, shopping and having lunch. He must not have had any sort of meeting planned, because a third grader isn't what most people bring along on their dates.

I'm not sure how I should proceed from this point. I can't try to account for every moment of alone time he has. If he wants to, he will find a way to see her without my knowing.

I feel like my choices are to confront him or wait and hope. I don't especially want to confront him. First of all, it would then alert him to the fact that I have access to his email, and I'm not ready to give that up yet. Secondly, if something is going on, I highly doubt that he is just going to come out and tell me the truth just because I ask.

I'm also not that great at waiting. I know from experience that the longer I have to think about something, the more my mind races. As far as hope goes, I've been treading water in the old River Denial so long that I am beginning to get dysentery.

So, I would appreciate the opinion of any men who may read this. If you were my DH and you got an email from TOW, and nothing was going on, and you refused to meet with her, would you tell me about it, or would you just pretend it didn't exist?

OR

If you were DH and you got an email from TOW, who you haven't seen in months and months, and she said it was important, would you agree to meet with her, but not bother to tell me?

OR

Do you see any potential situation where you would say anything to me if you were DH and you got the email from TOW, but you think I don't know about it?



I'm trying to give him a fair chance, but in reality, I'm going insane here.

Existing

It's been over 24 hours since I read the email from 'the other woman' (TOW). I don't think that my husband knows I can access his work email, but when I checked it again a few hours later, he had completely deleted it and any possible response he may have sent. I'm not sure if that is a sign that he's on to me, or if he is just being paranoid and careful.

That means that I have no idea how he responded to her. I don't know if he agreed to meet her. I don't know if he called her or texted her. I don't know if he told her to fuck off. I don't know, because he hasn't said anything about it to me. Not one word.

I don't know if he's trying to protect me, and doesn't want me upset if she is contacting him against his wishes. I don't know if they have been meeting regularly. I don't know what this is about.

All sorts of horrible thoughts are going through my mind. In her email, she said it was too important to discuss over the phone. What if she wants to tell him that she's leaving her husband? What if she wants to tell him that she's pregnant and it could be his? (This should be impossible, since he was supposed to have ended it with her 11 - 1/2 months ago, but who knows?) What if she has AIDS or some horrible STD and she might have given it to him... and he could have given it to me? (I had myself checked for everything last year, but I haven't been rechecked since.) I realize that it probably isn't anything this bad, but sitting here, not knowing, I start thinking awful thoughts.

What do I do now? Do I wait and see if he brings it up? Do I confront him? Do I stalk him and see if I can figure out when they're meeting? For the last day, I have been trying not to meet his eye, because I am afraid he will see every question written there, and I want to give him the opportunity to come to me about this without me having to broach the subject.

I called yesterday afternoon and made an appointment with a new therapist. A woman I work with had mentioned her name last year when I had "a bout of depression", which is what everyone in the world thinks happened last year. She can't get me in at a convenient time until a week from Tuesday. The way things are going, I should have a lot to talk about by then.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Why is it that I am always two steps behind what is going on in my own life? When I think things are perfect, I find out that my husband is sleeping around on me. When I think things are over, I find that my husband and I are making things work. When I think that I am going to do something for myself, I find an email.

You know the affair that my husband had? The one that I was sure was over? The one that I was trying to recover from? Well, last night I intercepted an email that she sent to my husband. She "needs" to talk to him. She says it's too important for a phone call or email, and they need to meet in person.

He doesn't know I can see his emails. How do I handle this without losing the only advantage I have in this craziness that my life has become?

How do I keep breathing?

What do I do?

Does Therapy Work?

Clearly, if there is anyone who needs therapy, it's me. I freely admit to the fact that I have no idea what is going on in my brain these days, but I'm not sure that I believe that therapy works.

Right after I found out that my husband was having his affair, I insisted that we needed to go to therapy. DH was more than willing to go along with anything I wanted at that point, so despite the fact that he wanted nothing to do with it, he dutifully accompanied me to every appointment.

Maybe we got a mediocre therapist, or maybe the whole couples therapy thing was just crap, but for the few months that we went, I don't think it did any good. DH was a bundle of nerves for days before each meeting, because he was sure that he was going to be berated for his bad decisions, and I was annoyed beyond belief that the therapist kept telling me to try to see the infidelity through my husband's eyes.

I was too devastated at that point to see anything clearly. I was certainly in no position to try to see anything that could possibly justify my husband's betrayal.

We didn't talk about anything with the therapist that we weren't talking about at home anyway. We had had many tearful, serious conversations on our own. Her being there didn't make a huge difference. In some ways, it actually made things worse.

And talking was not the only way we handled our devastation. For some reason, as angry and hurt as I was, I was inexplicably, magnetically drawn to have sex with my husband. This was not tender, make up sex. This was angry, animalistic coupling. I wouldn't kiss my husband, I often wouldn't even look at him, but we had frequent, intense, (honestly fantastic, but that wasn't what it was about) sex.

I hated myself a bit for this. I may have still loved him, but I didn't like my husband at all at that point, and I certainly didn't want him to feel like he was being rewarded for sleeping around on me. But I couldn't stop myself.

Couples therapy didn't help me with that, either.

But now, I'm thinking about it again. It's been about a year. I feel like I should be better at this point, but I'm not. I'm still a mess. I'm still grieving for the loss of the life that I thought I was living, but which turned out to be a lie.

Don't get me wrong, DH and I have wonderful moments, great days, even good weeks. But still, I cry more days than not. I don't feel like I'm enough for him. Some days, I don't feel loved. For months, I haven't felt appreciated.

I want to be where I was before, and I realize that that's not possible. I want to feel special. I want to feel beautiful. I want to feel wanted.

So I'm considering therapy again. This time just for myself. I'm not sure if it will help, but at this point I don't know what else to do.

Any suggestions?

Does the Aftermath of an Affair Make You Bipolar?

I started this blog a couple of months ago, then abruptly stopped, because I really don't know how I feel from day to day. There are some days that I am positive that my husband and I will work everything out, and that I'll get the happily-ever-after that I always believed was our destiny. Some days, I find myself figuring out if I can afford to leave him, how I would pay for rent and food and violin lessons on part time wages and child support. And yet other days, I feel like I should keep living the way we are, put on the perfect show for family and neighbors, but behind closed doors each live our own lives.

I don't think that I am convinced that the first option is possible, and the other two choices make me feel like there is a large chunk of my heart that is being carved away with a dull, rusty knife.

Here's the deal. My husband cheated on me. He didn't have a one night stand, he had a loving, romantic relationship. He has (as far as I know) completely ended things with her, but that hasn't taken away the feelings he had (has) for her. He still gets a fond look in his eyes when he thinks of her, and even though he knows that it hurts me, he defends her actions in their affair completely. He will take all the responsibility (and he should), but he is still protective of her in a way that makes me want to hit something.

My husband is a blogger. Following his electronic footsteps is one of the ways that I became interested in reading blogs. He enjoys the supportive infidelity community in the blogosphere. He writes comments to people which contain heavy flirting (which doesn't bother me) and nearly constant references to how exciting and invigorating his affair was (which bothers me a lot).

I have no reason to believe that my husband's affair was his first experience with infidelity in our marriage, and I highly doubt it will be his last. I do believe that he never meant to fall in love with another woman, and he will attempt to be less emotionally involved in the future. Is that good enough for me? I have no idea. It hurts my feelings more than I can say. But I don't know if it is enough to make me push the eject button on our marriage.

He says he loves me. He says he wants to work it out. He says that our marriage is the most important thing to him. And then he makes a profile on Ashley Madison.

So, what's a girl to do? I wish I knew that there was a chance that at some point I could be enough for him. If I knew that was a possibility, I would keep working towards it. I love him more than I knew was possible, but at what point do I get to start loving myself? At what point, should I be facing the reality that even if he loves me as much as he says (and I believe that he does), he will still always want to find that something more that he gets from other women.

I find myself thinking about having an affair of my own. It would be nice to be appreciated. It would be nice if someone could make me feel beautiful again. It would be nice to have an uncomplicated fuck where the emotions of orgasm didn't send me into tears.

But then, who would I become? Would I like the person I saw in the mirror, or would I just be another statistic in the world of infidelity bloggers?