Why do I even bother?

So my husband came up with some seriously bullshit reasons for why he doesn’t want to be married.  I basically debunked each one.  But, since he is set on those reasons, there really is no discussion on them.  I don’t know why I even bother.  I don’t know why I bother asking questions.  I don’t know why I bother trying to get him to see reason, to think things over. I’m done.  I’m done trying to be whatever it was he thought I should be. I’m done giving him everything he wants but getting nothing I need in return.   I’m done trying to figure out what the hell he wants.  There is no way in hell I will ever be okay with him cheating, and he made it clear on several occasions that he wasn’t going to stop talking to the trick he was effing with.  I’ve asked him several times over the last three weeks if he was still eating lunch with her daily, still talking to her on the phone for hours, still sexting/emailing, bbm’ing.  In the beginning (weeks ago) they were still having lunch every day.  He has responded “no” to each question each time I asked.  I don’t believe him for a second.  Next time I might ask to see his phone. He won’t see that one coming.  I suppose I am still curious, I can’t help it..

I guess deep down inside I’d been hoping that he’d change his mind and want to work on things.  But he has had the last year to figure out what he wants (and especially the last three weeks). I asked him the other day if he was done with our marriage, done with me.  He said “I don’t know.”  WTF?  HOW can he not know if he’s done?  His actions clearly show he is done.  As if the lying, cheating, and disrespect over the past year weren’t all indicators of him being finished with our marriage.  Seriously?

Truthfully.  I’m done.  I don’t trust him.  I don’t believe a word he says.

He stopped by to visit with our daughter yesterday.  After putting her to bed he sat there for over an hour, not saying much at all.  He had nothing to tell me, nothing to talk to me about.  I kept thinking “Why is he still here?  Go away.”  I’m being too nice.  I know I am.  I need to change that nice crap.

I’m done asking questions.  I’m done thinking of what he wants/needs…because that ish doesn’t matter.  I’m going to do unto him as he has done unto me over the last year.  I need to think about what I need, what my daughter needs.

Right about now I need him to move the rest of his shit.  I don’t give a damn if he has nowhere to put it.  That’s not my problem.

Done.

Dude, Seriously?

With all that has been going on I am of course full of questions.  I’m a detail oriented person, I like to know the details, the intricacies of the situation so I can better understand what is going on. Last night, I asked my husband “What is it you think being married is keeping you from doing?”  Do you know what this idiot said?  “Going to school, working on music, investing in music equipment.”  What are we?  Twelve?  Bullshit answers.  Here is why:

A few years ago I was constantly encouraging him to go back to school. Since the beginning of our marriage I’ve been saying “You need to get back in school.”  Three years ago he started back, taking a class at a local community college.  When it came time to take the next class, he always had an excuse about why he couldn’t take it.  He kept having one excuse or another about why he was going to wait until later.  After a month of so of that, I stopped asking.

For the past year, he has had all the time he wanted to work on music.  ALL the time he wanted.  I didn’t try to stop him in any way, bending over backward so he could go and “do his thing.”  Of course, I now know that part of “doing his music thing” was effing around with that trick (of course he denies it).  But he had all the time in the world.  Of course, in the year after the baby was born, he had parental responsibilities, that was a given.  Since our marriage, he has had the responsibilities of being a husband.

Investing in music equipment?  Uhm….pardon me if I’m wrong, but paying the bills and taking care of family should come before any piece of equipment, especially in light of our financial situation.

So yes, bullshit answers to the question.  And apparently, all the overtime hours he was supposedly working wasn’t for him to contribute to the household, but for him to save to buy equipment.  Dude, seriously?

He tried to claim that I’ve been in charge and that he felt he was just along for the ride. Dude, seriously?  You signed the loan papers to purchase the house, never putting up an argument against it.  You went along with the family planning, never putting up an argument.  So how is it that I am wrong if you NEVER said anything?

I asked him if he was done with our marriage, done with me.  He said “I don’t know.”  WHAT?  How the hell don’t you know?  You knew that effing around with that bitch would lead to the end of your marriage.  And yet you don’t know if you want to be married? (Clearly he doesn’t).  I told him that I’m operating from the standpoint that he is done.  The events of the past few months have shown me that he is done.  Done with me, done with our marriage.  I told him that he should figure it out, but he shouldn’t take too long.  Translation…I’m not going to wait around for him to make up his mind.   I’m done.

I’m pissed that he blames me for his shortcomings.  But somehow it seems fair to him to blame me for all of this rather than look at himself and how he has contributed to the end of our marriage.

I asked him if he thought that trick was a trustworthy person.  I asked him if she has a boyfriend.  He doesn’t even know if she has a boyfriend or not, he doesn’t think so.  Dude, seriously?  Just how dumb are you?  I should have told him that he was probably her side piece.  But he’ll find out soon enough.

I’m wondering how he thinks it is going to be easier for him to go to school, do his music thing, when he has nothing.  He basically has to start all over.  While he won’t have the responsibilities of a husband, he will still have the responsibilities of a parent.

I will be all right.  I have to be.  I did everything I could to make this work.  He will realize, if he doesn’t already, just what he has lost.

Change is Good

I woke up this morning thinking that change is good.  It has been just under two weeks since I locked my husband out.  I have had two weeks to come to terms with what has happened.  I see him and I still want to knock him the hell out.  Yes, I’m still pissed. But how can I not be?  I’ve gotten out a lot of my anger, but knowing that he sees that trick every day and eats lunch with her, and talks to her still bothers me.  It shouldn’t, but it does.

I’m moving on…changing things around the house.  There is a lot of good in this…I can do what I want with the rooms in the house.  I can change that damn white paint in the living room to an actual color (I hate white walls).  As SOON as he gets his crap out of the extra bedroom, I’m painting and moving my office in there…I can cook foods that I haven’t in years, because he didn’t eat those things (Hello…pasta alfredo).

I feel a sense of freedom.  I know that weeks ago I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to stay and work through our problems.  I see now that I was trying to prolong the inevitable.  It was inevitable because he was so wishy-washy about working on our issues.  Nothing changed or got better since the conversation in September 2010 about the issues we were having.  It wasn’t for my lack of trying.

When I got married, I meant the words “Till Death Do Us Part” in the sense that I would make sure I tried everything I could think of to make things work before calling it quits.  I’m not a quitter.  I never have been.  Had he not been cheating, I suppose I’d still be trying to find a way to make things right, even though I wasn’t the root of the issues we were having.

He claims that if the situation were reversed and he’d caught me cheating (FYI…had I been cheating, he NEVER would have found out.  My game would be tighter than that) he would have said “Well if he makes you happy…” and he says would have left.  I call bullshit.  He told me years ago about how he felt when his girlfriend cheated on him.  I KNOW he would have felt differently had it been his wife.  But that’s based on the assumption that he was a loving and caring husband who was trying his best to make things work.  He was none of those things.

I think back over the past year and it all makes sense.  The late nights, the phone calls on his cell phone bill, his staying up really late, his staying out really late, his constant texting/emailing.  I looked back over the phone records.  It seems they had LOTS of phone contact after work hours.  He said he hadn’t been to her house.  Their dalliances took place in her car.  Again, I call bullshit.  But hey, what do I know. If they were on the phone…they weren’t together.  But the sexting and emails make the fact that they weren’t right in front of one another a non-issue.

I don’t trust him.  I don’t trust what he says. I don’t even trust him to be alone with our child.  It is going to take a while for me to let her out of my sight with him in charge of her.  All those Saturdays when I was in class and he was busy on the phone with her or downloading porn when he was supposed to be watching our child…Yep…don’t trust him.  The Public Enemy song comes to mind “Can’t Truss It.”

I now have less money, and am going to find it very very hard to pay the bills.  Truth is…I’m okay with that.  If it means I don’t have to deal with him on a daily basis…then cool.

In the past, when I had a boyfriend that acted up, I dropped him like a bad habit and didn’t look back.  I didn’t have time for foolishness.  And I didn’t talk to them anymore. There wasn’t any “oh, let’s be friends.”  There were no second chances.  I feel the old me coming back.  I am not willing, at least not at this point, to consider making up with him.  Not right now.  I am in contact with him ONLY because of our child.  I am not the type of woman who would keep a child from her father (although it would be a different story had he been abusive or something like that).

I keep wondering what he thinks is in the grass that is supposedly greener on the other side.  I keep thinking that he was so much better off with me than he will be without me.  But that is for him to realize.  That is for him to see.  I hope he lies awake at night thinking about just how much he fucked up.  I hope he misses me deeply and wishes he could take it all back.  I asked him the other day if he missed me.  He said he did.  Good.  Selfish bastard.

But back to change….I’m looking toward the future.  I have time to re-evaluate myself, where I am, and where I want to be.  I have my child to take care of, and she is my main concern.  Ideally, I would like to remarry.  I’m not in a rush. I am, however, going to the gym in an effort to create an even better, healthier me.

After he puts our daughter to sleep I’m going to tell him to take some more of his shit with him.  There will be no leaving it until he can find/make the time to get it.  Get it now, before it comes up missing… Public Storage is offering the first month for $1. He has no excuse for leaving it here.  I don’t want to look at it anymore.

Time to change my Facebook status to single….I would rather not have people asking me what happened, so I will wait.

I am, however, going to file papers for legal separation.  So he will know just how serious I am, if he doesn’t already.

More to the Story

Warning…This is a long post and it contains foul language.

I waited at home that Monday, August 1st.  I knew he’d be home at some point and I wanted to be there when he tried the lock on the door.  He wouldn’t even notice the fact that the new locks were silver instead of that gold tone he’d chosen four years ago.  Around twelve thirty, I knew I didn’t have to wait any longer.  I heard his voice first, talking to his friend.  I heard him try the locks, pause, then try the again and again.  When I opened the door, he was borrowing his friend’s phone so he could call me.  I held the door close to me and said “We need to talk.”  I held up my hand and told him “Don’t come in.”  With a fierce “I’m coming in!” he pushed me back, put his bag down in his office, looked around, then went back to the door to get the rest of his things (unlocking it and slamming it open so I wouldn’t close it) you know I thought about slamming it in his face.  His friend stood there in shock.  I looked at him for a second (we hadn’t met) and then closed the door.  The cheater looked around his office, and then stormed to the bedroom where he looked into the empty closet and hit a few hangers.  He was mad?  Seriously?

I cursed him out.  I called that chick he has been fucking with all kinds of bitches, hoes, tramps, and sluts.  Yes, she knows he is married.   I don’t curse unless I’m incredibly upset.  I was angry, pissed, more pissed than I have ever been in my life.  I yelled. I cursed. I got out some of the anger that had been festering over the past 36 or so hours since the revealing phone call. Do you know this lying, cheating asshole refused to call that trick and break things off.  He said he was going to call her, but refused to do it then.  Just like our conversation on the phone, I knew that we were over right then and there.  If he wasn’t willing to stop seeing her, then there was nothing more for us.  There was no way in hell I was going to allow him to stay in my house, and continue effing around.  I don’t share my men.  You can borrow a cup of sugar, but stay the hell away from my husband.  He packed his computer and his music equipment, and finally left.  I had deleted hundreds of files on his computer, but hadn’t emptied the recycle bin.  Damn.  Forgot about that.  I thought briefly about trashing the equipment, worth thousands of dollars.  But I’m not that type of person, petty and spiteful.  I could be, but I’m not.

I watched him leave.  I had remained stoic in my anger.  I admit that I cried for about ten minutes after he was gone. Cried out some anger, some frustration, some disbelief and shock.  At that point all I knew was that my marriage was pretty much over.  If he wasn’t willing to stop seeing her and work on us, he couldn’t stay.  I called my sister and my best friend.  I’m glad I had someone to talk to.

Fast forward a few days.  I’m still incredibly pissed.  He came over to visit our two-year old.  Thankfully she is used to not seeing him (not really a good thing, but helpful in this situation).  She cried for “Mommy” when he was giving her a bath and when he put her in her bed.  I felt some satisfaction in the fact that she looked at him, said hello, and then came running to me.  I’m still all sorts of pissed (and will be for a long time).  I said very little.  He helps me deliver the crib to a cousin, then he leaves.  I can’t stand to be in his presence. I know what it is like to truly hate someone.  That son of a bitch basically took all I had to give and pissed on it.

It wasn’t like this cheating was a random thing.  He works with that trick.  He has known her for years. He eats lunch with her every day (and yes, can you believe they are STILL eating lunch together daily?  Bastard).  He made a conscious effort to take whatever the hell kind of friendship they had to the next level.  Getting a google voice number, going from calling her cell to having her call the google voice number.

I had to think long and hard about what I wanted.  I had to think about whether or not I wanted to try to work things out.  I’m not psychic but I can see the future.  He doesn’t want to be married.  He’s on some ‘ole ill shit like “I can’t do the things I want”…(because he’s married?).   Give me a fucking break.  No.  Give me two fucking breaks.  And a baseball bat.  And a knife.  And he’s still mad (four years later) that I made the decision for us to move back to the city I grew up in (20 minutes from where we were living at the time because we now have less money.  As if a bigger house, close daycare, family support don’t matter.

It has been two weeks and he still has a bunch of shit here.  I’m telling him tomorrow that he needs to find a place to put it all  or it is going in the trash.

And the really sad part of all this?  I haven’t had sex (or anything physical) since December 2010.  I’m climbing the walls.  I’m not the type of woman who is going to choose just anyone to sleep with.  So I guess I’ll be climbing the walls indefinitely.  I finally understand how some people can sleep with people they barely know or like.  As much as I hate my husband right now, I still want him physically.  That shit sucks.  Seriously.

He said he told his parents about the separation.  His mother is sad.  His father is disappointed.  He hadn’t told them the details.  I took care of that yesterday, sending his mother an email detailing the fact that I found out he has been cheating with a woman he works with and I changed the locks.  So they will know as soon as she opens her email, which will probably be in a week or so.

I have a strong faith in God.  I prayed about the situation for months.  Things didn’t turn out as I had hoped/wanted, but I believe that they turned out as they should have.  I believe the God has something better out there for me….

 

Removing the Filter

I’ve always had a filter.  It is a doorway of sorts.  I use it to hold back all the things I’d like to say, the things I think about saying, but don’t.  It has been ingrained into me that I should always be a professional.  I should keep my personal business to myself.  I should keep my deepest thoughts and feelings to myself.  Somewhere along the way, I developed this filter.  It has kept me from answering certain questions truthfully.  It has kept me from saying things I wanted to say.  It has kept me from doing things that I might later regret.

Recent events have led me to believe that I should remove this filter.  I should, instead of thinking through everything I say, just say what comes to me.  I should say what is on my mind, in my head, in my heart.

I’m going to try, for the next 30 days, to write without my filter.  I’m going to try my best to put down into e-ink the thoughts I have, the feelings I have.  I’m going to endeavor to put out onto these e-streets the me that I let no one see.  It is bound to be an eye opener.  And a form of healing for me.

Let the writing begin.

How could he?

A week and a half ago I found out that my husband has been cheating on me for the past year (since June 2010).  I was devastated.  I was pissed.  I wanted to destroy his sh*t.  Remember that scene from the movie Waiting to Exhale when Angela Bassett’s character put her husband’s clothes and crap into his car and set it on fire?  That was me (in my mind).

I am a very perceptive person.  He and I had been having two issues that I thought we were going to work on.  No such luck. I had been watching him for months.  Watching how he would take his phone with him when he left his desk.  Watching how he password protected it.  Watching how he would come home late without having been to the gym.  Watching how he was always on his phone, typing.  I watched him become distant.  When he was home he spent all his time in his office.  We rarely talked.  We didn’t touch.  Last September he told me that he was no longer attracted to me.  No, I didn’t turn orka (whale)  fat or anything.  The only thing I’ve changed is my hairstyle.  In January of this year, after an intense conversation, he admitted that he was no longer in love with me.  WTF?  So I started watching him.  A few months ago I started looking at his internet history.  Lots of sex sites.  One name kept popping up, a Facebook contact.  I wondered if that could be her.  I wasn’t sure.  For months I quietly checked his browsing history on a daily basis.  He was so clueless (thought his game was so tight?) that he never noticed.  I didn’t click on the links, I just read the history.  He started using his google voice number almost exclusively.  Lots and lots of incoming calls using the google voice number. He tried to say that a few of his boys were using the number, but they were also calling from their home and numbers? He thought I was stupid.

I finally got fed up.  He went out-of-town for a film he was working on.  I called him to ask him a question, but I called his google voice number (which he wasn’t expecting).  He answered all happy to talk to whoever was calling.  When he heard my voice his voice changed.  Alarm bells began to ring in my head.  After that, I sat down at his computer, not caring anymore about being on stealth mode.  I clicked on his Gmail link and lo and behold, his email opened up.  I read scores of emails between him and this chick.  Emails that included “I love you’s” and “you make me so happy,” references to condoms, explicit pictures from her to him, and her telling him that she couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with him.

I called my sister.  I called my best friend.  I strategized.  I called him to say goodnight as if everything was okay.  Then I shut off his cell phone.  He wasn’t going to be able to talk to that bitch on my dime.

He used a friend’s cell to call and ask about his phone, inquiring if mine was working.  I told him my phone was working fine, told him I shut off his phone, and proceeded to ask him who she was.  He played dumb until I gave him her name and details straight from his email.  He still tried to deny it.  Then he started crying.  An hour and a half later, he said he wanted to stay and work on things, but in the same breath refused to stop talking to that trick. The phone cut off (battery went dead).  I was done.

I wanted to burn his *ish.  His music equipment, his clothes, everything.  I have never been so mad in my life.

Instead, I packed his crap into his car, changed the locks, and waited for him to come home.  He never figured I would do such a thing.

I kept wondering…”How could he do this to me?”

I’m still wondering….(to be continued)