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Last weekend was my husband’s birthday. During couples counselling, it emerged he felt ignored and undervalued because he didn’t have a birthday party for his 40th. So now, two years later, I organised a belated party for him. I hired the venue, we sent out invitations, it was a huge night. I don’t know how much he actually remembers from that night as he got so rip-roaring drunk, we got home and he spent the next hour in the bathroom throwing up. So much for a birthday fuck!

Anyway, the party was great. Unlike last year when (in the middle of his affair) he didn’t give a fuck about what I did for him, he seemed grateful for the night I’d organised for him. Last year’s birthday was one I’d rather forget. It hurts so much to even think about that day. I surprised him with tickets to a show I knew he’d love, organised babysitting for our three little ones, got all dressed up (which he didn’t even notice) and we headed out. He was so quiet, sullen even. It was an uncomfortable date.

Little did I know that every time he was out of view, he was texting that skanky married whore. Probably telling her that he had to go out with his wife for his birthday. OMG, how fucking painful. And she’d be telling him that given the opportunity, she’d give him the birthday blowjob of his life. And he’d say how much he’d lick her pussy until she screamed. And me, the poor fucking clueless wife, would be wondering why he seemed a world away. (Which brings to mind my favourite Eurythmics lyrics: “Last night, you were lying in my arms. And I was wondering where you were.”)

So this year, we had a big party. I looked amazing, if I do say so myself. I wore tight leather pants, a silver singlet top, sexy black stilettos. He told me I looked “hot” as we walked out the door. So did several of his friends later that night. I felt a bit giddy with all the attention but I must admit I lapped it up! There were many people there that night that hadn’t seen me in a while. Looking almost 20kg (almost 40lb) slimmer must have shocked some of them.

I met some of his work friends and one of them said to me “Your husband has told me so much about you…” and another friend piped up “Did he tell you she was HOT?!”. Haha, I had to laugh! It’s interesting that others notice what my selfish husband had right in front of him but failed to give a shit about.

Anyhoo, one of his work colleagues I do not like also turned up that night. Let’s call her Sheila. I haven’t liked Sheila since I saw a photo of her with her arm wrapped around my husband taken at their annual Employee Presentation Night (an event partners are NOT invited to attend). I told my husband at the time that I thought the photo was inappropriate for him to have on his Facebook page and he laughed it off and told me to not be so silly.

This woman is a huge extrovert. Married with three kids, she acts much younger than her 46 years. When I saw her at the party, she didn’t look right. She sat at a table most of the night looking glum and not contributing to any conversations. The next day, I mentioned this to my husband. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s just split up from her husband.” Really, FUCKER, did you not think to tell me this?? “I didn’t want to bring it up,” he said. “With everything we’re going through, I didn’t want to talk to you about someone’s marriage breaking up.” I kid you not, people, these are the words my husband SAID TO ME.

So yay, Sheila’s single. Did I mention I don’t like her? Yeah. Now I REALLY don’t like her. I’m watching you, bitch.

Birthdays. Anniversaries. Everything seems so forced since D-Day. My birthday was in January (about 9 weeks after D-Day) and my husband spent a fortune on me. I suspect the guiltier they feel, the more they spend. To show us how much they really love us, of course. Fuckers.

When our anniversary rolled around in July, I had no intention of celebrating a single fucking thing. My husband didn’t say anything to me all day. Finally, in the evening, he said “I know I haven’t said anything about our anniversary…” I angrily said “Don’t worry about it. I never want to celebrate another anniversary again.” Then I stormed off to bed.

Seriously, when your husband has an affair, what is there to celebrate on your anniversary? What a sham your marriage has been? What a fucking asshole your husband was to toss aside the marriage for some meaningless affair with a skanky whore? That is NOT what an anniversary is for.

So fuck it.

All these days that once had special meaning now seem like such a fucking chore.

I dread each one as it rolls around.

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