I thought I would do so much better than this. I always pictured myself as someone who would handle a hypothetical dismal situation with class and grace and strength.
Ha! Not so! Last August I found the signs of the affair on the phone bill. It was just texts. Nothing happened. RIGHT.
It went underground, which meant 9 months of daily lies knowing I was concerned and working on this marriage, and they were living it up fucking like bunnies at work. He made me feel crazy during this time, and they were together the whole time.
Now they are making wedding plans. How very nice. (Well, I know, I shouldn't look, but I'd rather know than not know, history and all...).
Our twins were barely one when the affair started, less than two when I discovered the truth about the affair,, and now I am trying to get through the days taking care of these little girls and look for work and keep breathing, and those life-destroying egotists are picking out wedding stuff.
He has turned into Mr.. Tanning bed fitness guy (because she is 23 and ain't gonna keep an old pale fat guy around, which was ok when they were being sneaky).
She picks outfits for him. His fish belly white stomach is now shaved and tan, and it grossed me out, because who has to change themselves so drastically to be loved? When he picked up the girls the other day and found a reason to show me (aw, it itches), I was grossed out. It was a stranger in front of me. That wasn't the tummy I loved, and the replacement, however toned or tanned, made me ill. I was glad I didn't have to deal with it.
Am I lonely? Yes. Do I eff up 180 ALOT? Yes. But I'm trying.
I've seen a side of myself that truly hurts to see. The hurting person who isn't actually graceful. Who recognizes their shortcomings.
But I know THIS part is temporary. But damn, it just sucks to not be who I thought I was on top of this shitstorm.