7 Years out now from my A and it's interesting to look back on how I felt back then and my reaction after confessing to my H (only the one A of course as I was a liar and a hider).
I remember feeling so damn entitled. I remember feeling kind of bemused at my H expressing his love for me after I had confessed (as he leaned in the door white as a sheet)and thinking "Wow. Didn't expect that reaction". I remember feeling somewhat smug.
I remember thinking "now he will have to be the H I think he should be", accompanied by unspoken threats that I could leave if he didn't measure up and make me happy. He obliged and kept the pain of my betrayal to himself mostly as he was frightened to show it to me, or be understandably angry, in case I made good on my threat. Now I see his boundaries were as bad as mine. Him and I both needed and deserved to feel the full brunt of what I had done to us.
I also told him weeks later that "sorry, I need to be honest but I still have feelings for him". How fucking cold.
I had no remorse as I blamed my H for my bad choices. That is, if he had been kinder, nicer, more affectionate, less angry, more communicative, less aloof, more happy, less grumpy,etc etc ad nauseum.
Its a lot of work examining ourselves and also having the courage to ask for what we need, knowing also that this could be denied, and then we will have some big grown up decisions to make. Instead, I acted the way I always have when hurt, I turned it inwards, but of course with that, there is always collateral damage. And its damage that will never ever really totally be healed. How can it? I'm angry and grief struck at my dumbass self back then who fucked it up for myself now, who has now finally grown up enough to face myself. Damn it!
Consequences are a bitch huh? And here I am facing them. No more running. I'm too tired anyway.