On the surface things look great, we have lots of fun together, lots of travel, good friends. fWH has been out of town the last week and Iíve been snowed in, giving me plenty of time to rehash the last years of my life over and over.
Iím having a really hard time reconciling the then and now. 3 years ago, he left town, to go wine and dine OW under the guise of a business trip, abandoning me in a blizzard that shut down the city and he just turned off his phone. Today, I know he loves me and our life together. I see it in his actions, I feel it in his words, but Iím just still so freaking hurt and thereís no guarantee he wonít betray me again.
I feel like I dug myself so deep into my cave that I canít see a way out. My walls are up so high and I just canít bring them down. I feel trapped and alone. I really want a relationship where I can be open and honest, discuss problems, not let them festerÖ I recognize I am in control of this. Iíve never seen that though, I donít know how that works, or where to start.
I feel like where Iím hung up is forgiving myself for allowing myself to be treated that way. For always backing down, not demanding what I now see I needed. I wish I would have made him tell her that she was nothing, even though I know in my heart that wasnít true. I wish I would have called him out when he was worried about her seeing us out and about when we visited her city, instead of clinging. I wish I would have been stronger and 180íed when he balked at giving up his friendship with OWís boyfriend. I am so disgusted at myself for allowing that. The person I am today, 31 months since d-day, wouldnít have put up with it, right?
I just really need to KNOW that he truly understands how much pain his betrayal caused because if he did then there is no way humanly possible that he would ever think about repeating it. The aftermath of DDay was by far the most devastating period I have ever experienced. The night I found out I thought I might not wake up if I closed my eyes, and the pain was so great I would have welcomed it. The following months werenít much different. I nearly ended up in the hospital because I couldnít care for myself. Grief and panic became normalcy and still linger today. Simple things send me into a tailspin of reliving the past. I just canít bring myself to talk about it, but I have to. How do I even start?