January 28th will make four years since I received my call from Bobbie stating she was still sleeping with my husband. I was sitting in my home office talking to my sister when she beeped in. I remember pulling the phone away from my ear to see who was calling. I saw her name staring back at me. Bobbie.
Bobbie had actually been in my contacts in my phone for a very long time. Years before there was any affair and I had barely even noticed she existed she was a contact in my phone. Her contact was likely only used at Christmas time for a card sent to my husband’s employees. When I went through some photo albums last year I found a few pictures of her from past employee picnics and holiday parties along with other employees. It’s funny how random this person used to be in my life compared to now. I can recall a few times my husband brought her up at home over the years. This young girl was marrying this old guy for his money. She was sleeping with so and so. She was being a total bitch to the marketing assistant. Such random meaningless information about this person.
So, now the word “Bobbie” is staring back at me on my iPhone. It’s funny how just a name can incite so many different emotions. In the seconds between pulling the phone back from my ear and actually beeping over to her my mind went blank. I wasn’t thinking anything. I simply told my sister to hold on and switched over the call. I had recently found a picture online of a business breakfast that they were both sitting at the same table. After I said hello, she said if you think a picture is the worst thing you could see……that’s how the conversation started. She rambled on about sheets and passion and how she didn’t care about our kids. She then added my husband to the conversation. That kind of back-fired on her since just that morning he had purposely woken me up just to tell me he loved me. It probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear. I hung up.
At some point later she texted me. She wanted to know if we all could meet, all three of us. I was all for it…my husband was not. I’m not sure why, but a few nights ago I read through so many of our texts. I wonder if I will ever delete them from my phone. He deleted her a very long time ago.
The very last text I sent her was after my oldest son had finally had enough and texted her to stay away from his dad. Being who she is, she “tattled” and told my husband that he had texted her. Not that it did any good. My husband would never confront our son for doing that. I’m sure he was secretly proud of him.
Bobbie and I had exchanged several screenshots of texts we each had with my husband. Clearly he was playing us both at that time. It was one of the reasons I had wanted to meet. And likely the reason he didn’t want to meet. To this day I look at this man and wonder why. Maybe it’s as simple as because he could. We both allowed him to get away with it. And he was lying to both of us. This past week and a half of being sick and he has taken such excellent care of things, the laundry, the kids, everything….and all I can think is what he did to the two of us. And it just doesn’t fit. That man who was taking care of me and everything else wouldn’t cheat. But, he did.
So, here I am four years later. Here we are four years later. And in total it’s six years later. It seems like a long time and a very short time all at once. Sometimes I feel totally beyond it all. Other times I really want to talk to Bobbie. I can never seem to balance those feelings. And I have envisioned that conversation with her numerous times. But I never envision what we say so much. I honestly don’t know what we would say. It’s not really wife versus mistress any longer. I don’t even see it that way any more. I guess I don’t really see it any way.
It’s curious to me the things I’ve remembered and the things I have forgotten. The mind is mysterious indeed on what it chooses to retain. Some memories are long stretching brick walls, and some are laughter and happiness, and some are unbearable sadness. But, when I reflect over the timeline of my life four years or six years is not that much. Even today, it’s mostly a blur. And I suppose like any other moment in my life I kept the important parts, the parts that taught me something and the parts that made me laugh and the parts that made me cry. And it’s all good. It’s still all good.
If anything, I’ve learned that people can lie, or tell the truth, or be good or be bad or be deceitful, and that really has nothing to do with me. That’s all on them. Who I am isn’t dependent on who anyone else is. And, of course, it’s very hurtful when people we love betray us. It’s not ideal. It’s not what we want. But it’s not a reflection on us. I suppose it took me a while to come to that realization that what my husband did and what Bobbie did are reflections of who they are and not on who I am. It was their lack of character. It had absolutely nothing to do with me at all.