Wonderland


“Only a few find the way, some don’t recognize it when they do – some… don’t ever want to.” ― The Cheshire Cat 

The nights are still incredibly quiet but somehow they don’t seem as lonely. Don’t misunderstand–my thoughts still keep me awake and when I do fall asleep its just for a few hours and them I’m once again awake for the rest of the night. Sometimes, I’m lucky enough to be able to fall back asleep with enough time to actually rest before the alarm goes off. Most mornings however, I turn off the alarm before it even goes off.

It’s been 48 hours since I signed the papers.Time used to be so fleeting to me and now I’m so annoyingly, conscientiously aware of it. I still measure time by D-Day; I don’t mean to, it just happens. I still don’t hate you but I sure hate what you did. I hate that your selfishness has ruined four significant dates for me: the anniversary of your father’s passing, my brother’s birthday, my birthday and our anniversary …… in one fell swoop, every single one of those significant and special days is forever marred by the memory of your infidelity and your indifference.

My consolation is that my “new” birthday will be in February. Yup, that’s right… at least for awhile I will celebrate my half-birthday 🙂 I can thank L for that suggestion. And our anniversary will now be my “antiversary.”  It’s all sort of fitting as I have felt a bit like Alice navigating the twists and turns in Wonderland so these un-celebrations would be perfectly at home with the Mad Hatter, the March Hare and the White Rabbit. And like Alice,  I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.”

But I’m Ok. Actually, a lot more Ok than I thought I would be. After signing the papers, I had a mini-meltdown that lasted about 5 minutes and was solved with hugs from Ms. E and Mr. R and then later hugs from my parents who stopped what they were doing and just listened to me as I likely shared the same stories and frustrations they’ve heard for the past 2 months.

Aside from that, its been pretty non-eventful. Although, I will admit that I have been in a constant state of checking my email to see if there is word from the lawyer that the judge has signed off on our divorce paperwork.  In that respect, I feel like the white rabbit always checking his pocket watch. Alice:How long is forever? White Rabbit:Sometimes, just one second.” 

I’m honestly not sure how I will react when I see those words and see the documents showing the finality of it all, but one things for sure I’m willing to take the road less travelled.

“Alice came to a fork in the road. ‘Which road do I take?’ she asked. ‘Where do you want to go?’ responded the Cheshire Cat. ‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered. ‘Then,’ said the Cat, ‘it doesn’t matter.”

Time Heals All Wounds


Time heals all wounds, or so they say. I shudder to think of the time that I will finally post when I no longer feel like my heart and my life were torn from my very existence.

But for the record:
60 days, 20 hours, 30 minutes aka
5,257,800 seconds aka
87,630 minutes aka
1460 hours aka
60 days aka
8 weeks aka the time between D-day and when I signed the papers….

Congratulations, you finally got what you wanted.

Trifecta


In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: It Goes On. Robert Frost

I’ve slowed down on posting. I started writing this blog the night you left the rental. This has been my own way of working through my hurt and I think I always intended to share the blog with you on the day our divorce became final. But that day is closing in upon us I don’t know if I will or not. Does it really matter? Do you even care? I know the answer to both of those questions… if you did care, then this blog would never have come into existence.

D-Day feels like forever ago and it has just been 61 days. I’m definitely not the same person… emotionally or physically. I’ve aged about 20 years, I look at my hair, there’s more gray, my eyes are sadder and usually puffy from crying–beit small two-minute meltdowns or full-on cry myself to sleep, my smile isn’t always at the ready, and I find less, well actually zero humor in shows that minimize the effects/affects (?) of infidelity and divorce.

I picked up the items from you that you found when packing up your own stuff from the rental a week ago. I was surprised to see so much of “our stuff” just tossed into in the back of your car, stuff that we had accumulated over the years that apparently didn’t have a spot in your new home, so they were just in the back of your car. One thing that stood out to be is that you are no longer pleasing in my sight. I will never again look at you with eyes of love. I will never again speak about you with terms of affection, your name is simply M, your appearance is just one of a random person in a crowd.

I got the initial paperwork from the lawyer today with the details that will be incorporated into our divorce decree. It’s the last time our names will ever be joined with the words husband and wife. Our anniversary is Saturday… no, our anniversary, would have been Saturday. It’s football Saturday here, UGA Homecoming. For so many hours and days after D-day I prayed for my own sort of homecoming, but it never came.

I was a fool for thinking that you were actually considering “us” when you were on your trip to visit your family in NY. I dropped you in Atlanta at 3:20 pm. The chat log shows your first text to her was at 3:26 pm and they didn’t stop until 10 pm that night. You no sooner walked into the airport hotel lobby that you began texting her, apparently desperate for her.  And then for the next seven days that you were supposed to be thinking about us, and whether or not there would be an “us” again, you were texting her and calling her.   My stomach still lurches thinking about the fool that I was.

But I’m not a fool anymore. You fooled me for too many years and Heaven knows that you are fooling yourself into thinking that you  and she did nothing wrong. I don’t know how long you will fool your new girl into letting you stay with her. I think its funny that you had the audacity to say to me on D-weekend,  “nothing will happen between me and her until you and I are settled” and “I could never live with her, she’s got two kids.” And yet, it did and you are. No matter how much we shared in almost eleven years of marriage, it does sadden me that the mere mention of your name, a name I used to count as “safe” is now reduced to who you’ve become ….

Liar. Cheater. Thief.

Excuses aka Tools of Incompetence


An adult will make changes, a child will make excuses

I got your text last night. Your stuff is out of the rental, you found a couple things of mine that you will return to me and you will drop the keys off to me sometime this week. Once again, I’m left to wrap up this life that you have left behind. You aren’t even going to meet with the landlord for the final walk-through. Does it perhaps serve as a reminder of all the things you pointed out that were wrong with the rental but that you told him you could take care of? The screen door that never got replaced, the hole in the window screen that never got taken care of? Oh, the many excuses you have for not doing these.

Your text said that there were a couple of chairs left on the porch that you didn’t want and they didn’t fit into your car so you left them. It was your responsibility to finish– your responsibility to get them off the premises. Somehow, I don’t care how, but you were to get them out of the rental. But you just left them — a job you couldn’t finish, polished off by an excuse as to why.

When talking about the conversation that Preacher had with you the day he called you out on your infidelity, you said that you didn’t like the way he spoke to you in his office, like you were a child– speaking down to you.  But weren’t you acting like a child?  Pouting and angry because someone interrupted your playtime? Upset that you were being told that you needed to clean up after the mess you made? Your excuses,  like that of a child, with no rhyme or reason for doing things other than “because I wanted to” or “I wasn’t happy.”

There were times when you would give me lots of explanations as to why you didn’t want to do something and I would simply say, you have lots of excuses but no real reasons. Like those chairs on the porch — the two chairs you didn’t want to deal with because they didn’t fit; I didn’t fit into your life, marriage didn’t fit into your life so you chose to leave me and it behind.

And you have lots of excuses for that as well.

45-Minute Procedure


“God only gives us what we can handle. He must think I’m a bad ass!” pinterest pin

I had knee surgery yesterday. I think back to a conversation we had just a week ago when we were talking about you and your plans for moving your stuff out of the rental and I had mentioned I was at the orthopedic surgeon’s office. You never asked me why and I know its because you don’t care. Just like the night I injured my knee, exactly one week prior to D-day. I hobbled into the bedroom, you were already asleep but woke up to my crying and limping around. You asked me if I was Ok. I said no. You prayed for the pain, offered to get me an ice pack and then went back to sleep, never bringing it up again.

I lived with the pain from that day through now but little did I know that the pain of two tears in my meniscus was nothing compared to the pain I was going to begin to have to deal with just one week later. If only it would be as easy as a quick 45-minute procedure to repair the tears in my heart as it is to repair the tears in my knee.

So while I’m layed up over the next few days, I am soaking up plenty of Pinterest.  Often I would look to fellow pinners to post words of encouragement that I needed to hear/see. Many were things I wanted to hear from you but I had to seek out myself. Today, I spent 45 pinterest minutes on a procedure I like to call “Me.” Here are some of my favorite pick me ups today.

 

Picture 2  Picture 4 Picture 5 Picture 6 Picture 7 Picture 8 Picture 9 Picture 10 Picture 11 Picture 12 Picture 13 Picture 14 Picture 15 Picture 16 Picture 17  Picture 19Picture 1

 

 

Blessings


…..And what if trials of this life, The rain, the storms, the hardest nights, Are Your mercies in disguise? Blessings by Laura Story

I was recently challenged by a dear friend to write about my goals, dreams, and plans, no matter how lofty they might seem. I have given it some thought and I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t have any right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve considered those for myself. They always took “us” into consideration and the question was pretty much what do I need to do to help our family?

For so many years, any goal or plan I had was to help improve our station in life. My goal was to have a good job so that we’d have insurance that was sufficient to meet our needs. I wanted to return to school to improve my skills so that I could get a promotion to get more money for us, when people liked my handmade cards enough to pay for them, I worked to find events and stores that would carry them so that I could bring in extra income to help us.

Now that its just me, and I guess its time to take her sage advice to heart. She so eloquently shared that now its my turn. It’s time to make choices for my future, choices that don’t include you.  So today, while I don’t have an answer for future plans outside of just remembering to breathe, I am going to choose to focus on my blessings and maybe soon I will be able to share some goals, dreams, and plans for my future.

  • I am blessed to have a Savior who loves me no matter how many times I present myself as unlovable with my words,  actions, and attitudes
  • I am blessed to have an amazing network of friends, many of whom are traveling this road with me, quietly holding one hand and handing me tissue with the other
  • I am blessed to have the most supportive brother who upon hearing the news started the conversation with “First of all, I love you and you are strong enough to get through this” and ended it with, “Its a good thing he wasn’t there when I was”
  • I am blessed to have a Pastor who upon hearing the news of your infidelity immediately called you out on it, made you take responsibility by telling you that you had 24 hours to tell me or he and his wife would be over to tell me themselves
  • I am blessed that my new route into work allows me to pass the cows that I love
  • I am blessed that my job includes a boss who immediately says “Yes!” when I walk into her office and say, “I need someone to be angry/sad/mad with me, will you?”
  • I am blessed to have an outlet with this blog. I’ve received some very sweet comments that have encouraged my soul.  I love that my first comment was from someone who called you an a$$hole (even now that makes me smile–thanks Pabloswife) And that so many others are willing to share their story and make me feel not so alone. Be sure to check out their stories ———>
  • And lest you think I forgot them, I am blessed to have amazing parents who have taken me in not just once, but now twice to help me get back on my feet. The first time was four years ago when they helped move us move across country so that we could find our balance after losing everything in Arizona. And now they are letting me occupy a small slice of their homelife again all the while never making me feel like a burden or a failure for the life that I somehow seem to be living.

As I look back at my list, it’s really about all the people that seem to have MY back, something you wouldn’t, didn’t, or couldn’t do. Thank you J for the challenge. I really am blessed.

Dangerous Territory


Emotional relationships venture into dangerous territory. They may not initially lead to physical involvement, but they can still devastate marriages.  Focus on the Family, The Truth About Emotional Affairs.

Your justifications, your excuses… I think I dwell on them because they are without reason and sense. I find it hard to believe that I lived ten years buying into all sorts of excuses, even helping you make a couple of them. And now, being removed from you really makes me see them for what they are: stupid, nonsensical and really just lies.

The day you handed me your half of the rent check and it had her address on it, you knew exactly what you were doing. I asked you what was up, what was the deal, were you two dating? And your response was “Yes & No, that you hung out and did things together.” I’m going to poll the audience on this one but isn’t that called……… dating? It’s been awhile but I’m pretty sure that’s one of the definitions.

You told me that you weren’t having sex with her. I’m not sure why you felt you needed to tell me that but you did.  You stupid, stupid boy, an affair isn’t just about sex. You are living with her and she is a part of your life, a part of your routine, she is someone that you care for. Case in point — the day you were leaving for your vacation you very specifically said to me,  “Now, P and all of them aren’t going to go to the store and harass her are they? Because that would fuckin’ piss me off.”  I responded, “how would I know?”  There was more emotion in that question you asked me about her than there was the entire weekend leading up to you leaving. Affairs are not just physical, they can be emotional. You are emotionally involved with her, ergo, you are still having an affair and yes, you are still married.

It still makes me completely nauseous to know that you spent time talking about me to her, compared me to her, hid your 1800+ texts and phone calls to/from her, spent time at another co-worker’s house with her, used your friends as a cover to go be with her.

I pray that the Lord grants me grace and the freedom to forgive myself for trusting you and readily buying into the lies you told me. And I still pray that you will come to full repentance before the Lord. But since that’s not happening anytime soon, will you at least pay the lawyer?

Enough Already


I feel like my life is a drinking game. Every time you lie, someone has to take a drink. We’re already on the second keg.

The question is “why are you getting divorced?” The answer is YOU wanted NOTHING to do with reconciling our marriage. Period. End of story.  Yet, when someone asks you why we are getting divorced you go into detail as to to why you felt justified to have an affair. Let me run through a few of them….  “we acted more like roommates than husband and wife, there was no spark between us, we mutually grew apart, it wasn’t much of a marriage, I wasn’t affectionate enough.” And then to me you say, “you never felt good enough for me, you always felt inadequate, you felt like you were holding me back, you loved me but you weren’t in love with me.” Enough already!

When telling your stories, how many times do you share that I immediately offered you forgiveness? That I said I would forgive you and forgive her and not hold it over your head? That I wouldn’t speak ill of either of you, that I would only show her kindness? How many times do you say that you asked me to wait one full week before deciding whether or not you wanted to move forward with me? How many times do you tell people that I left you at 9:30 pm that night and by 10:30 pm you were at HER house FOR THE ENTIRE NIGHT?

For almost eleven years, I was in this marriage too. Do you think I was always satisfied? Always happy? Do you think I enjoyed the drug years and the side-effects that came (or didn’t come) with that? Do you think I enjoyed navigating the daily, sometimes hourly mood swings caused by your depression?  And yet, I didn’t have an affair, I didn’t go talking about the state of our marriage to strangers or even family. I stayed a part of this marriage, praying for it, fighting for it. You woke up one morning, realized that you didn’t like being married to me, you didn’t want to “work” at it and over the course of three weeks had put a plan into action.

You calculated everything. Starting with the fake “let’s go to counseling” conversations that  you brought up to me all the while you were with her. You wanted to save face with your friends and say “Look at me, I wanted this marriage to work—see I even suggested we go to counseling, but it didn’t work out. I guess we will have to get a divorce.” I asked you to talk to me, to tell me what was going on and you wouldn’t. You would shut down and say, “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t have to ask.” Pure manipulation.  After we were separated you sent me a text saying that you were serious about counseling and that you did pray about our marriage. Stop lying. The timing of everything is recorded and can be pieced together by looking at your chat logs. Enough already!

I do know you failed to calculate the money. You sent me a text saying that you couldn’t just pull money out your a$$, so I might not get my half of the fee ($120) to get out of the rental right away. You said you didn’t have anyone to give you money, that you told your family and they were disappointed in you.  We had a conversation after we met with the lawyer the first time. We talked about the initial filing fee. I told you I had my full amount to pay the lawyer, you said you had borrowed $200 from “around here.”  What does that mean, “around here?” Was she or someone else going to pay for your divorce as well? Have you paid them back yet? Do they know that I gave you $2500 to buy you out of the interest of our car. That is half the blue book value and in hindsight, definitely more than you deserved. Do they know that the car you purchased only cost $2000 AND how you handed B $1500, not the agreed upon $2000? You told B that you’d pay him the rest when he got back into town …. in four months. There is $1200 afloat in there and you still haven’t paid the lawyer his $500.  Don’t delay this divorce you so desperately wanted just 45 days ago. PAY THE LAWYER!

Enough already. Aren’t you tired yet? Just take responsibility, will ya?

Going, Going, Gone


The language… oh the language. I’m embarrassed that I sound like a sailor.

I find myself constantly apologizing to God, to my friends, to co-workers. I keep referring to you in some not kind words and I know better than that. In my grieving process, I’m apparently in the cursing stage. Hopefully it passes quickly because honestly its not me. I really don’t like foul language– I’ve always believed that with so many words in the English language I should certainly be able to come up with one that would work. Plus that’s not how I was raised and my mom would probably wash my mouth out with soap…that is, if she didn’t think the same of you as I do right now. But I’m sorry, its childish and you know me well enough to know that it not me.

There is a new part of me emerging. I wasn’t kidding when I said that as long as she is living my recycled life that I was free to get a new one. I’ve had more time to get to know my friends better. They have rallied around me in a way that still humbles me. The best part of receiving love is that you are energized to return it and show it to others. I am calmer, not every moment of my day is spent rehashing the events of D-day. Its as if their love and prayers carry me throughout the day. I will never be able to thank them enough and while I pray they don’t go through anything as life-shattering as I have been going through–I do pray that should their world get rocked that I can be the friend to them as they are to me.

I find that I have moments that I get excited to consider the new world that is mine. I think about venues around town, places that I can experience and explore without having to do a recon mission to scope it out to come home and prepare you for the environment. I really used to think you were spontaneous and maybe when we first met, you were; but as our years together passed, you weren’t as open to new experiences as you led people to believe.  Maybe it was just me, I’ll never know.

You called as sweet as can be asking for my help with your insurance and the pharmacy. This was quite the change from the two phone conversations just 24 and 48 hours prior.  Sometimes, I’m not sure if I’m coming or going. No that’s not true, I’m definitely going. I’m going to be stronger, I’m going to be smarter and I’m going to one day find someone that will love me the way that I deserve to be loved.