Sometimes I wonder if I should continue this blog, and then I remember that it’s important to continue. It’s important because it might help someone else. And writing in this blog was a catalyst to healing in so many different ways. So I keep writing. I keep writing for all of us. I keep writing for me.
Healing for me and my husband has been much different from any other kind of healing we have experienced. While I come here and write, vocally, I’ve been much more quiet than I ever was in the past. My brain is constantly working to sort it all out. It’s all inside, except for those moments when I couldn’t hold it in, and most of those were in the beginning. At some point I learned that sometimes you have to wait. Sometimes you don’t have to talk about things right away. As days and months went by, slowly things got talked about, a trickle here and there, and it grew more steady in time. Have we talked it all out at this point? No. But, I know we will. We set limits and days and time so that we can continue with our lives as normally as possible most of the time. That was not easy at first, but it’s been worth the patience. It’s been a gift to our children really. And anything that needs talked about comes out better after a waiting period.
My husband is about to embark on having a big conversation with me. We haven’t planned it, but I know based on some questions he’s asked me lately. This is likely the final things he has had taking up space in his head. All of the mess and cobwebs of the past that he needs to get out.
We were watching TV one night and the “bizarro world” Seinfeld came on. Bobbie and I used to refer to things as bizarro world, so I thought of her instantly. That night I dreamed that she and I were sitting on the deck of my new vacation house. I wondered if he also thought of her during the episode, but I didn’t ask. I guess I wonder how often she crosses his mind. It would be ridiculous for me to think that she doesn’t, especially when I know she crosses mine.
Sometimes I could easily be finding myself wondering why this happened to us, to me, to him, to the kids. It would be easy to allow those emotions to take over and consume me. I had to let those feelings come and pass through me and go. First and foremost, he stayed. That says the most. This is where we had to literally come to compromise in our heads. He cheated, he stayed, I was betrayed, the kids were bewildered and he was betrayed. We all had pain. It was very hard to remember that he also had pain, even if it was self-inflicted. But, whether or not I liked it or thought anything of it or hated it didn’t matter. His pain was as real as my pain. And that’s how we got through this, a definitive understanding that we all were hurting.
Someone asked me once if I still hurt. I mean, the answer is yes. It still hurts. And I never know what will trigger that hurt. You never forget this kind of thing, you just learn to live with it as part of your life. I think it’s the people who are obsessed with forgetting that don’t make it. If you think that you can go on with your life and the affair isn’t part of it, you’re wrong. And it’s accepting that an affair is part of your story that is the key. An affair is part of who we are. And regardless of how either of us feel about it, Bobbie is part of our life. It’s something we have accepted. And the best thing we ever did was accept all of that. To deny that would be like denying part of who we are. Neither of us are afraid to say her name or speak of her. And that honestly takes away all of her power.