The question is frequently asked, "How does the WS feel? What is going thru their head? What do they feel? What do they fear? Are they sad all the time? Are they happy? Do they feel guilt? Do they feel second class? What is a WS all about!?" The answers are I'm sure different for many. After all, each person is unique. And I welcome other FWS comments and views.
Weekend or days that Mr. Aubrie have off work are the worst. And best. *sigh* It's complicated. Here is a glimpse into my life, a year and a half past Dday and into R.
I'm not a morning person. Hate early mornings. Hate alarms. I wake slowly and over the span of a couple hours. Sunday mornings are murder. Mr. Aubrie always beats me up. He is my alarm clock. Generally as the sunlight is peeking thru the window annoying me and forcing me out of my deep sleep, I smell fresh coffee and hear the mug scrape across my nightstand before I even open my eyes. I smile. He brought me coffee. He knows I hate mornings and he always fixes my mug every Sunday morning. He's such a doll.
A small pain squeezes my heart. Before my eyes are open, I remember how selfless my husband is. That he does these sweet gestures for me, even after the hurt I have inflicted upon him. I shake the feeling off. I don't want to ruin a good day. He is here with me now. I'm working to be a better person. I'm not who I was a year and a half ago. Today is a new day.
He slides back in bed and I roll over into his arms. I finally force my eyes open and he's watching me. His eyes crinkle as he smiles. He whispers, "Goooood mooooorning Babe." I roll my eyes. He laughs and pulls me closer to him. Morning breath and all, he accepts me. I stare into his eyes in wonder and awe. This man has shown me so much love. So much grace. Forgiveness. Compassion. I feel about 2 inches tall. I give him a quick peck before racing for the toothbrush and shower. We gotta get going.
Dressed and hair done, we're ready to leave. He grins and says, "Gosh, you look so nice today. Your hair is perfect." I adjust his tie and breathe in the scent of his cologne. Makes me so weak in the knees. Every. Time. Another kiss and we're out the door.
As we drive, the kids chattering in the backseat, Mr. Aubrie telling me the latest scores from whatever game he was watching, my mind starts to drift. Life is so...normal. Yet it's so...different. We're different. "Aubrie...?" My mind snaps back. "I'm sorry...what?" He sighs. I've done it again. Caught up in my mind, the thoughts swirling. I tuned him out. Way to go me. Not listening is part of what got me in this mess. I see in his eyes he's annoyed. "I"m really sorry. I got caught up in some thoughts. Please tell me again." He sighs and starts over. I pay attention and start truly listening even though I don't know the difference between the Cardinals, Ravens, Black-hawks, Eagles, or whatever other bird team he's talking about.
It's so hard to concentrate anymore. My mind wanders in a thousand different directions all at once. I struggle with focusing. My memory is worse. It frustrates those around me. I'm trying to improve. To slow my mind. Massive work in progress. Well...I think there is progress. Maybe a slight progress.
We get thru Sunday School and church service. Of course the subject of fidelity it brought up from time to time. It's church, right? On bad days, he reaches for my hand, or I rest my hand on his leg. The moment is usually short and fleeting. We're stronger. We can do this. During closing prayer, he always places his hand over mine. In that moment, I feel strong, safe, loved, and treasured. That is my favorite part of the service. His hand over mind during closing prayer. My heart sings every. time.
We go to lunch with friends, then go home for the afternoon. On nice days, the kids play outside. They make us laugh with their antics. And as I'm sitting there watching them play, watching Mr. Aubrie laugh and interact with them, my body convulses in a full body shiver/cringe and screams, "How could you be so STUPID!?" The kids don't notice, Mr. Aubrie doesn't notice. I fight back the panic. "You were so stupid. Yes you were broken. But seriously!? How dumb can one person be!?"
Deep breaths. I coach myself. "Pull yourself together. You know why you did what you did. You know what lead you to that point. You are moving in the opposite direction now. Just. Be. Enjoy your family. You still have them. You're doing the hard work. Everyone makes really stupid choices. You learned a terrible and valuable lesson. Don't let the guilt consume you. Keep walking Girl."
I shake myself, and walk into the house to get the fixin's for s'mores, planting a big, wet kiss on my husband as I walk past. He looks shocked for a moment, then a sly grin crosses his face. I shake my head, "No. I'm getting dessert together, keep an eye on the kids." He huffs in mock consternation, and goes back to his book.
As I gather things together for dessert, my mind wanders again. "I was willingly throwing all this away. My kids, my husband, me, everything. I was hiding secrets. Pretending to be something I wasn't." I reach across the counter to the laptop and quickly refresh the SI page. I see a new post. Looks like we have a new WS on SI. I scan their thread. *sigh* I call out the kitchen window, "Babe...gimme a sec. I'll be out in a bit."
Turning my attention to the laptop, my fingers fly over the keyboard, forming a reply to the thread. I whisper a prayer that the person on the receiving end is open to my 2x4s and comments, as well as the other people's responses.
That they're not on SI just to please their BS. That they aren't faking this. That they genuinely want to be healthy. Fingers crossed. Submit.
Mr. Aubrie meets me at the back door as I come back outside. He already knows. He recognizes the look in my eyes and asks, "What's the story?" I tell him quickly, and add my view. "I said the *same* thing. It's bologna. They just don't realize it yet! I hope they *do* realize it." He nods, makes a couple comments, then swallows me up in a bear hug. "God, I love you. I love who you are. You have changed so much!" My heart melts.
Bedtime rolls around. We tuck the kids in bed. Mr. Aubrie gets in the shower. I lean against the bathroom counter and we chat about the day. Our dreams. Our hurts. And other random tidbits that come to mind. He steps out, reaches for his towel, and leans in and brushes a kiss across my lips as I step into shower. The realization hits me all over again. He really loves me. His every day words and actions proves that. I love him. I've fought the ugly parts of myself, and continue to do so. The changes made are making me a better, safer person. We've been thru hell, and we're fighting our way back.
It hurts. To know what I did. To see where we have come from. But it's joyous too. Look where we are now, how far we've come. It's bittersweet.
I feel sorrow, guilt, shame, horror at what I have done.
I feel joyful, peaceful, loved, more healthy.
I feel like a prize.
I feel sub-par.
I feel fear that one day, he'll change his mind and leave.
I feel confident that he'll stay.
And yes, sometimes I feel all of that at the same time.
Another day in the life...
