No-Nos

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affair, asshole, betrayal, husband, infidelity, lies, marriage, my husband cheated on me, pain, sex

As well as everything is going at the moment, I do have some no-nos when it comes to my husband.

1. Dirty talk during sex is definitely a no-no. Pre-affair, I totally got off on dirty talk. It was a major turn-on for me! But now, it just makes me queasy. When he tells me he loves the feel of my warm mouth on his cock, all I can think about is him saying the same words to that fucking whore. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But my imagination gets the better of me. After all, I did see some of his messages to her, telling her he wanted to tenderly kiss her all the way down her back, and how he’d love to put his hot tongue inside her pussy lips. It makes me want to vomit. I can feel seething hate rising up inside me. So for now, dirty talk is off the agenda.

2. Remember that scene in Pretty Woman where Julia Roberts tells Richard Gere she does just about anything in bed but won’t kiss on the mouth? I believe she says something like “it’s too personal”. I remember hearing it at the time and thinking “What the fuck?? She lets him put his dick inside her but doesn’t want to be kissed?? What the fuck is THAT about?”

But you know what? Julia was on the money. Kissing is too personal, especially long, deep, passionate kisses. Those kisses are for lovers. True lovers. Not that kind that fucking cheat on you. Deep pashes are a no-no. I just can’t go there yet.

3. My final no-no is new sex moves. I feel my body instantly stiffen when my husband attempts a new move. Where did he learn that? With a woman or through watching porn? Did she tell him what SHE likes, what women like being done to them? Whenever he attempts something new, like inserting a finger into my ass when I’m about climax, it totally kills the moment. And my orgasm. Damn that fucking whore! Get the fuck out of my bedroom!

Like I said in my last post, things are on an even keel at the moment. But I still have my limits.

And this list of three no-nos is where I draw the line.

Even Keel

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affair, asshole husband, betrayal, betrayed spouse, blowjob, cheater, cheating, D-Day, emotional affair, healing, hope, infidelity, intimacy, marriage, post-affair, sex, tongue, wayward spouse, whore, wife

If I were to describe how I am today, one year and one week out from D-Day, I’d have to day I’m on an even keel.
I’m no longer miserable, yet nor am I elated. I’m at a relatively stable place right now, an even keel.
And at the moment, there are definitely more good days than bad.
The following points have probably helped:

1. He didn’t fuck her (although I suspect it wouldn’t have been too far off, even though says that would never have happened).
2. He maintains he loves me, always has, always will.
3. He has never once told me to “get over it” or any such variation.
4. He accepted full responsibility for his foolish actions from day 1.
5. The affair was not with anyone I knew or counted as a friend.
6. The whore was a stranger, not a colleague or mutual acquaintance. He doesn’t see her at work every day, thereby digging the knife in a bit further on a daily basis.
7. He didn’t walk out on me and the children to be with her.
8. He is remorseful, and feels completely humiliated by what he’s done and how much he has hurt me and our family.
9. I have free and complete access to his email, phone, and computer.
10. He didn’t tell the skanky bitch that he loved her or that she was beautiful. (She’s a nobody that hangs around singles sites looking for men to save her from a shitty marriage. Whore!)
11. He can account for his time now. No more “I have to get to work early” or “I have to stay back at work a bit”.
12. He doesn’t do out-of-town gigs that involve overnight stays.
13. He calls and texts me at least once every day, including when he’s on his way home.
14. He leaves work on time every day and heads home.
15. He willingly attended couples counselling with me and made whatever plans necessary to make our appointments.
16. He asks me about my day and how I’m doing, every day.
17. He never stopped wearing his wedding ring, even though I stopped wearing mine.
18. He tries not to do anything or go anywhere if it’s going to distress me. (Obviously, this was an exception.)
19. When he gets home, he plugs his phone into the charger and doesn’t touch it until he unplugs it to leave for work the next morning. No more: in his pocket, taking it to the bathroom, sitting with it glued by his side.
20. She has never met my children, although he did discuss them (and our upcoming plans) with her.
21. He says I give awesome blowjobs : )
22. He has never once asked for forgiveness (probably because he knows I would never forgive him).

And for now, that’s fine by me.

Looking Up – A Year Since My World Changed

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affair, asshole, betrayed spouse, D-Day, emotional affair, fuck, hope, husband, infidelity, marriage, married, sex, surviving affair, tongue, trauma, wayward spouse

As much as I love Sydney, it gets insanely hectic on weekends. And because Australia is a big place, it’s easy to get away to a million and one places on the weekend. A two-hour drive north, south, or west, and you’re in a different world (head east from Sydney and you hit the coast). Not many people realise, but the land mass of Australia is pretty much the same as that of the United States. If you were to get into you car and drive for a couple of hours, where are some places you could end up?

And so yesterday marked one year since everything I knew to be real and stable crumbled under my feet, like standing on a shattered pedestal that you can feel moving beneath you as you lose your balance. I fell and I fell hard. There are moments when I think I’m having more good days than bad, and other days when I think those moments are me being completely delusional.

But yesterday, I felt good. We went out on Saturday night and had an amazing meal, followed by an equally amazing mind-blowing orgasm. My husband’s tongue knows no bounds. (Yes, I realise the irony of that statement.)

So when I woke on Sunday morning, I felt a little more “connected” to my husband.

And I felt the urge to get out of Sydney. To get amongst the trees, the fresh air, the silence.

So we piled all three little one into the car and headed off to the unknown. We spent the day being a family, talking, laughing.

I must admit, thoughts of the affair did not cross my mind very frequently at all. And when they did, I pushed them away.

That was then. This is now. I am what I think about all week.

Smile, everyone.

I know I did.

It was a good day.

 

O Husband, Stupid Husband

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affair, asshole, asshole husband, betrayal, betrayed spouse, cheater, cheating, couple, D-Day, divorce, fuck, fuck it all, infidelity, liar, lying sack of shit, marriage, other woman, wayward spouse, whore

On the weekend, my musician husband was performing with his band at a local fair.
My husband was keen for our children to come along to see his performance.
I told him I wasn’t sure if we’d be coming along, as going anywhere on my own with three little children poses its own challenges.
Plus, we’d been at a kid’s birthday party that morning and our children were all exhausted.
In the end, I decided to take them. When it came time to leave for the performance, my baby was still asleep. It should be a crime to wake a sleeping baby. But I did it, because I wanted the children to see their daddy performing.
I piled everyone into the car, set the GPS, and set off with one grumpy baby and two tired children.
In the car, the two older ones crashed out while baby demanded food. Joy.
When we arrived, I took a guess where the nearest viable parking might be (several blocks away from the fair), placed a protesting baby in pram, and woke two grumps to begin our walk there.
Unfortunately, Google Maps sent me on some fucking expedition in the opposite direction, so we end up walking several blocks needlessly.
I knew then we had missed my husband’s first performance.
But we kept walking anyway.
And then I spotted my husband. He was across the street waiting for the lights to change so he could cross over. He was eating an ice cream and was with two other people, both other band members. I recognised the male, but not the female.
I stopped in my tracks.
The three of them were chatting and laughing away at the lights, unaware of my presence on the other side of the road.
Finally, the lights changed and they began walking towards us.
My husband then spotted us. “Hi!,” he said. “You’ve just missed our performance.”
“I know,” I said.
“We were just going to hang out at the pub until our next set,” he said. “But now I don’t have to!”
He was so cheery.
“Who is that you were walking back with?” I asked.
“Oh, that was….James….and……Gina.”
I looked at him like he was fucking mad.
“Gina?,” I asked. “GINA??”
(In case I need to bring you up to speed, Gina is the fucking slut who sent my husband Facebook messages calling him ‘darling’ and asking, sorry, TELLING him that he should call her “when he can”, and that they should have lunch together. I discovered these messages a month after D-Day. I made him unfriend her on Facebook and I sent her a direct message calling her a home-wrecking whore. She wrote back telling me she was offended. Boo-fucking-hoo, sweetie. She later called my husband and HE told her we were “having problems”. Like it’s any of her fucking business! You can read the full story here.)
Where was I? That’s right, about to punch my husband in the fucking face, metaphorically speaking.
I looked at him with my eyes on fire.
“I cannot believe you’re just casually walking down the street, eating, laughing, WITH HER when know how much stress that causes me!”
My husband had led me to believe he had cut off all non-essential contact with her.
What a stupid, o stupid, husband.
Guess that makes me the stupid wife.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” he offered.
“What difference would that have made?” I asked. Guess he would have been more careful to not be anywhere near Gina in my presence.
“You should just go to the pub with everyone else,” I seethed.
“But I don’t have to now,” he protested.
“Just go. I don’t want you anywhere near me,” I hissed at him, careful that the children were not within earshot.
And then I walked away. And I didn’t look back.
I pulled out my phone and began typing a text message to him.
“YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE.”
I hit send.
And being the asshole he is (and knew it), he didn’t respond.
SUCH an asshole.

PS It was the first time I had seen Gina in the flesh. She looks like an overweight giraffe.