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The past few weeks have been stressful around here.

I seem to constantly be reminding myself that my husband is an asshole. I married a fucking asshole who cheated on me with a married skanky whore! BASTARD!

Then I get angry. And very pissed off. So I don’t talk to him. And as for sex – forgeddaboutit!

My D-Day was almost 12 months ago. Last week, I asked him to print out a copy of every phone bill for the past 15 months. His answer? “Sure…can I ask why?”

“No,” I snapped back. “YOU don’t get to ask any questions.”

“No problem,” he said.

When I woke the next morning, they were sitting on my keyboard waiting for me.

I went through them with a fine-tooth comb. Every single call, when it was made, how long it lasted.

Were the calls made on weekends? After work when he said he was “working late”? During his lunch hour? I HAD TO KNOW.

I don’t really know what possessed me to ask such a thing. Part of me wanted to see the reaction on his face, part of me wanted to see him squirm, part of me wanted to see if he’d make excuses and not give them to me.

I sent him an email asking him to identify a number of callers. I have full access to his phone so I could have looked them up myself, but thought I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

Everything checked out.

It’s so fucking dumb that even this far after D-Day, I still go psycho insane at times. I mean, really, you’d think I would have worked this stuff out of my system by now.

But no.

And to be perfectly honest, my husband is not a jerk. I know other wives complain about their husbands not doing anything around the house, but my husband will put loads of washing on, hang clothes out, take washing off the line, iron clothes, load up the dishwasher, and basically do anything he can to help out.

So basically, I sound like an ungrateful bitch for complaining, but HE HAD A FUCKING AFFAIR. And I just can’t seem to get past that. How the hell do you just let go of such a thing?

Even if my husband does everything right for the rest of his life, such as telling me where he’s going, giving me access to everything, being completely transparent etc, how the fuck do *I* move on?

And what if I can’t? What if I can NEVER accept what he’s done?

What if it’s not him, it’s me?

This week he was talking about investing in yet another property. I said no. He seemed surprised.

Because all I could think about was “if we have to split our assets, I don’t want to make things any more complicated than they already are.” Of course I didn’t say that, but I thought it.

Everything we do now, I have to take that into account. Once upon a time, we’d book overseas trips with a lead time of many, many months. Now I have to factor in the ‘what if we’re not still together by then’ question. And that sucks.

I know nothing in life is certain, but to me, my husband was. He adored me. He loved me. We were so lucky to have found each other. We were going to be together forever.

Now I live in this altered reality where nothing is what it seems, least of all my husband. I don’t know what to believe, or who to believe, or who I can even trust.

It’s like realising your entire (married) life has been a fucking sham.

It feels like I’m starting all over again.

I doubt I will ever be truly happy again.