The aftermath

I guess the depression started before the affair. The knowing, but not knowing, the wanting to ask, but not wanting to accuse. The "a woman always knows" things in my head that I couldnt bring to light, and then all at once, like a train that I never saw coming, it hit me, with such ferocity that I think I died. Maybe not the external me, but something deep in me died that day, and here I am a shell of a woman, clinging to something, Im not even sure is worth clinging to. Something I think I need, but can't trust. I still hurt all these months later. He expectes me to just forget it ever happened, and get back to the normalcy we once knew as if this affair, and this pain never existed. God knows, Id like that as much as anyone, but how do you unknow something? How do you forget that your spouse ripped out your very soul?

I have become nothing in the aftermath of it all. I am so broken and ashamed, and genuinely hurt by it all that some days I think suicide would be a better option than living this tortured existence, living in constant fear of what everyone might know that they whisper about in the shadows, that doesn't hurt them at all, but rips at the core of my being. Yet they whisper amongst themselves as if its "their" secret to keep.

Call me crazy, But its not the affair that hurts, its not the secretive nature of everyone who knew before me that hurts, Its not any of the things you think it might be that rips at my soul. Its the lack of honesty. I can deal with an affair, I can deal with the whole town knowing, with that woman posting our life story including the parts that involved her on facebook. What I am struggling with is the lies. Even when he was caught, right down to the last second, right down to the part where he could not deny it, he did. He denied every bit of it until there was no option but to own it. That is what kills me inside. I cannot trust him. Not even a little.

Different folks have different ideas of wht a relationship should have to be whole. My thing was honesty. Get a girlfriend if you need to, I wont ask, you dont tell. But when it comes to a point where the cat is out of the bag and IM confronting you because this jaded whore is plastering it all over my facebook wall for my children, and parents, and friends, to see, be honest. Your loyalty wasn't to any commitment you made to me. Your own words to me were that she had told you that if ya'lll were caught that you both should deny it all to the bitter end. Even when she cracked and told the story, you still remained loyal to your commitment to her to deny it. You spit right on the commitment to me, to the mother of your children, to love honor and respect till death do us part forsaking all others. You forsaked me, the mother of your children, the woman who has waited for 20 years for you to stop being a traveling man and just be my husband. You chose to be loyal to the woman who knowingly partook in lies and deciet. How can I ever trust you again? How can you ask me to forget this pain? How can I find a way to carry on? Nothing matters anymore, and why should it, because any part you were involved in would probably be riddle with lies and deciet anyway.






melissa

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The aftermath

I guess the depression started before the affair. The knowing, but not knowing, the wanting to ask, but not wanting to accuse. The "a woman always knows" things in my head that I couldnt bring to light, and then all at once, like a train that I never saw coming, it hit me, with such ferocity that I think I died. Maybe not the external me, but something deep in me died that day, and here I am a shell of a woman, clinging to something, Im not even sure is worth clinging to. Something I think I need, but can't trust. I still hurt all these months later. He expectes me to just forget it ever happened, and get back to the normalcy we once knew as if this affair, and this pain never existed. God knows, Id like that as much as anyone, but how do you unknow something? How do you forget that your spouse ripped out your very soul?

I have become nothing in the aftermath of it all. I am so broken and ashamed, and genuinely hurt by it all that some days I think suicide would be a better option than living this tortured existence, living in constant fear of what everyone might know that they whisper about in the shadows, that doesn't hurt them at all, but rips at the core of my being. Yet they whisper amongst themselves as if its "their" secret to keep.

Call me crazy, But its not the affair that hurts, its not the secretive nature of everyone who knew before me that hurts, Its not any of the things you think it might be that rips at my soul. Its the lack of honesty. I can deal with an affair, I can deal with the whole town knowing, with that woman posting our life story including the parts that involved her on facebook. What I am struggling with is the lies. Even when he was caught, right down to the last second, right down to the part where he could not deny it, he did. He denied every bit of it until there was no option but to own it. That is what kills me inside. I cannot trust him. Not even a little.

Different folks have different ideas of wht a relationship should have to be whole. My thing was honesty. Get a girlfriend if you need to, I wont ask, you dont tell. But when it comes to a point where the cat is out of the bag and IM confronting you because this jaded whore is plastering it all over my facebook wall for my children, and parents, and friends, to see, be honest. Your loyalty wasn't to any commitment you made to me. Your own words to me were that she had told you that if ya'lll were caught that you both should deny it all to the bitter end. Even when she cracked and told the story, you still remained loyal to your commitment to her to deny it. You spit right on the commitment to me, to the mother of your children, to love honor and respect till death do us part forsaking all others. You forsaked me, the mother of your children, the woman who has waited for 20 years for you to stop being a traveling man and just be my husband. You chose to be loyal to the woman who knowingly partook in lies and deciet. How can I ever trust you again? How can you ask me to forget this pain? How can I find a way to carry on? Nothing matters anymore, and why should it, because any part you were involved in would probably be riddle with lies and deciet anyway.






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