When the absence of her is loud

My husband wanted to surprise me today with a trip to a local resort.  Unfortunately, it rained and kind of ruined his surprise.  But, he did decide to take me there for dinner and we took a walk along the paths after.  I remember being there right after it was over between them.  I remember because she was headed to a Jimmy Buffet concert, and typically felt the need to stay in touch with him during any concert.  But, this time, before he went to his meeting there at the resort he handed me his phone.  There I was for the first time in a very long time all alone with his phone, and he knew about it.  He walked away to his meeting and i put the phone in my pocket.  I took it out later and looked at the blank screen and wondered if she was trying to stop herself from texting him from wherever she was.  I had the phone for two hours alone.  I remember thinking that she was really gone, this is real.  And from that moment on this once elusive phone that spent its time face down wherever it was appeared face up everywhere it was.  Kids freely took it to play their games and it was just as available as mine.  A major milestone.

This seems like a dream come true.  And I suppose it was.  But, her absence was loud.  It’s hard for me to say that.  But, wrapped up in the neat little package of no more hiding and no more spying her being gone wasn’t quite what I expected at first.  I think Taylor Swift said it well in her song “Clean”, just because you’re clean don’t mean you don’t miss it.  Here we were, free of her, but still she was there for me in my head.   I’m not sure that makes sense.  And, after we found out about the fact that she was truly sleeping around, I think we both were feeling the same things, a myriad of emotions regarding her that ranged from rage to empathy.  I know he was feeling like someone had punched him in the gut over and over, with the added emotion of feeling very foolish.  But, me, I was feeling everything from fear of potential STDs ( which he told me later she did have one ) to truly feeling bad for her and whatever brought her to this lifestyle, and absolutely every single emotion in between those.  I went from wanting to slug her in the beginning, to putting her on that home wreckers site, to wanting to just talk to her.  Maybe punching her would have beneficial, and maybe talking to her would have answered a lot of my questions, the home wreckers site would have just been a good jab.  I, of course, did none of the above.  As therapeutic as punching her would have been, you can’t do things like that when you have kids.  And even if I did request to talk to her, she wouldn’t do it because that would mean facing her mistakes.

The truth is, I feel like I’ve let the part about the affair go.  I’m having a really hard time letting her go.  And I don’t know why.  I know that sounds completely crazy.  I could just move on with my life and forget the whole thing, but she remains on my mind.  Despite the fact that I know that she is a chameleon, the chameleon that she was with me got exactly who I am.  I remember the day I realized she left him the letter in his truck and that she never stopped seeing him that I not only felt the loss of him, but I also felt the loss of her, someone who got me and understood me, and even the knowledge that it’s all fake doesn’t stop me from missing that feeling of someone who gets you.  I expect women who find out that their husband is having an affair with their best friend feels this way.  Only we were never best friends.  I suppose in some other realm of the universe we could have been.  In some other realm of the universe maybe she wouldn’t have tried to steal my husband.

Sometimes I think I’m the only one in the world who would feel these things about the other woman.  After all, she was very cruel to me when push came to shove, saying things that she didn’t really need to say, things I can’t unhear, but wish I could.  I guess there are many things I wish I could unhear.  And all of the subtle things that my husband says lets me know that he is moving on.  But, it’s easier for him.  He has to deal with her betrayal, yes.  But, I feel like I’m dealing with the betrayal of both of them, even though that is very bizarre.  And maybe it’s just part of the healing process for me.  I am going back through the attic of my brain and pulling out boxes of memories and pain that I just couldn’t leave on the shelf.  I have to sort through these boxes.

My husband skipped this part.  Opening the boxes up is not what he wants to do.  I suppose maybe her absence is loud for him too, even though he knows the same facts that I know.  We deal with this very differently.  He drowns her out by leaving the boxes closed up tight.  I open the boxes and go through it all again, with purpose and intent.  I go straight to the heart of all of the emotions and pain.  I find myself often running straight to her, often by going straight to her blog, the only connection I have to her.  And I would be lying if I didn’t say I find it disappointing that she’s written nothing in a very long time.  But, I have no idea why I feel this way, except her absence is loud, deafening sometimes.



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