The smallest of words

My husband and I were in a deep conversation today about the affair and about opening up to each other.  We had been having this conversation in pieces, because let’s face it, we don’t have the luxury right now of a full-on sit-down conversation with each other that doesn’t involve a sporting event.  But, we were alone in the car together and found 10 minutes to talk.

In all of the countless conversation we have had, through all of the deep, meaningful exchanges about love and marriage and affairs, something hit me tonight in a major way.  It has really been two exchanges we had that weren’t in the middle of a deep talk that has spoken the most volumes to me.  The fact that the words did not take place in those conversations, not any of them, maybe speaks the most to the deepest things this man feels and thinks.  Those unedited, not thought out, words are real words and thoughts and feelings.

The first:

We were taking a walk together, not discussing much, and I honestly can’t remember exactly what I said, but his response was:   What do you expect after this blow I’ve been dealt.  He said it…softly, and had I not known him so well, I may not have even been able to hear exactly what he said.  He said these words about three months after my friend, the other wife, told us everything.  Using the word “blow” told me that he felt the weight of the world just as I do, but in a different way.  The quiet tone of his voice told me the rest.

The second:

We were in the car.  He was explaining his difficulty in telling me everything and used the analogy what if one of our children were kidnapped and found a month later and went through terrible things, I wouldn’t want to question our child about those terrible things.  I said, but you didn’t go through terrible things.  His reply:  I wouldn’t say that.  He said it without hesitation.  He said it directly and firmly.  Without even asking I knew his “terrible” things was the loss of his most valuable assets, his honor, the assault of his character, his integrity.  It’s funny how a single, simple line containing four words can explain what thousands of words can’t convey.

My husband met “new mom” Bobbie yesterday at the kids’ game.  We gave each other that knowing glance later on and joked about our bizarro world.  It’s nice that we can laugh now on occasion  when things like this happen.  And really, it is kind of funny.

Small words and laughs, all part of the healing process.  Healing is one of those things that sneaks up on you,  sometimes you’re healing and you don’t even realize that it is happening.  But, healing takes a long time.  It is not an overnight process.  And I would say it takes twice as long to heal as the affair took place.  It’s a slow and steady event.  It’s also a one step forward two steps backward event.  It takes time.  It takes stamina.  It takes everything you have, especially in the beginning.

Our healing is nearly complete.  There are only fragments left of things not yet dealt with.  And almost all of those fragments are things the two of us need to work on separately.  I ask myself every day how I feel.  The answer is that I feel at peace again.  I feel nearly whole.

And that feels great.








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