It’s not fun.

It will never be fun again.

I realise that now.

I can’t fix this fucking mess.

My husband can’t fix it either.

Affairs leave a devastating wallop to your psyche.

So much time is spent accepting that nothing will ever be the same, nothing will ever go “back to normal”, and that no amount of action will fix the disdain and resentment you feel for your cheating partner.

I can only assume that people claiming an affair made their marriage “stronger” are lying through their fucking teeth.

There’s nothing left for my husband and I.

We live under the same roof but in separate rooms.

Sex is a thing of the past. Not that I care – I don’t ever feel the need for it.

We spend more time arguing than anything else, mostly about how much he yells at the kids.

I do not know why we are still living together.

Is it because we’re both too apathetic to call it a day?

Thinking about the future with him fills me with absolute misery. What an awful prospect.

Why are we too weak to walk away from each other?

The lying cunt drains all energy from me.

The thought of another twenty or thirty years with this serial cheater weighs down my heart, my head.

I don’t love him so why am I still here?

I’m exhausted.