March…and he left us AGAIN

March 2016
It’s been a while.   But I remember this month like it was yesterday.
The end of February brought the knowledge that he was still talking to her through December.  He admitted they talked, only talked, through the end of December.  He said she was very angry with him when he came back home after leaving us right before Christmas.
He swore on everything he could that they didn’t have a physical relationship.  He swore that it ended on Jan. 1st, when he came home.
I believed him.
But we fought.  We fought a lot.  He kept doing things that were painful, he kept me at arms length… Except in the bedroom.  We were not lacking there, and connecting like we have never before.   This was hard on me.  I loved our physical connection, but I could also tell he was still wanting to end it.
March 8th… We got into a fight in the yard.   I was so angry.  I picked up a plastic bucket and threw it at his work truck.  I wasn’t thinking… It broke his windshield.  March 9th… I had made an appt. with a lawyer.  At this point, I was done.  I had been asking him to go, and he refused.  Even though I feel us parting, and separating… He will just not go.   We have begun having nights with the kids.  Even though under the same roof, Thursday’s were his, Tuesday’s mine… It was sad.  
I wanted advice from a lawyer, how do I proceed with separating, and how do I get him out of our house?   
I was heartbroken the day I went to see the lawyer.  The building had been sold, and it was now a law firm, but 11 years earlier, it was a real estate office, and I sat in the same room with the lawyer discussing how to divorce my husband, that I sat in 11 years before signing the papers on our first house.  
Bought a house in that room, and looking at a divorce in the same room a decade later.   I could barely breathe.
March 11th.. He asked me to go to dinner.  I went.    Remarkably?  He was sweet.  He changed almost over night.  He gave me his jacket, he held a door open for me for the first time in 25 years.   He laughed.  He held my hand.  
What was going on?  In my head, I was convinced he was just scared… If we split?  His child support and alimony was going to be significant.  Was that why he was being nice?
I didn’t know… And honestly, I didn’t care.  I welcomed the night, the change, the kindness.  He even told me he loved me.  It didn’t last.
2 days later, he moved out again.  He left.  Again.  He packed his stuff and walked out the door.  He said that it was just a separation, a break.  He said we needed it, the fighting at this point was as bad as it could get.  I actually welcomed his absence.  I felt like I could breathe.    But he came back home a week later.  I actually wasn’t ready for him to come back this time.  I was able to breathe a little.
March 25th, his band plays.  I go.  I ask him on the way there how they talked.  I didn’t understand, I saw nothing on the phone bills, and I saw nothing on his phone.  I wanted to understand what app he was using to talk to her.  He refused to tell me.  We got to the venue he was playing at, and by this time, we are fighting.  He threw his phone at me, we scuffled, and he told me walk the fuck home.  We were literally in another state, but I headed out.    I made it about 7 miles away, and he got me.  The next day… Oh the next day….
I had what can only be described as a break down.  I literally felt it, something in me broke, I felt like my mind split and went crooked… There is no other way to explain it.   I cried.  I cried like I’ve never cried before.  I couldn’t control it, I couldn’t control the thoughts, the anger, the pain.  It had been almost relentless since September.  I literally could not take it any longer.   
When I came back, again, that’s the only way to describe it, I felt drained and lost.  I felt physically weak.  I felt scared for myself, and my kids.  I had been all out bawling for hours.  I even picked up some broken glass that was in our barn, I had visions of just dragging it across my wrists… I wanted out.  I did not know how to hold it together.
He took the glass from me. I had lost my mind.  
I went to my family’s house for Easter.  He didn’t go.
April 2nd rolls around.  We are calm.  We spend that Saturday sitting on the couch in the living room discussing how we can separate.  We talk about how the kids’ schedule could dictate who gets them and when.  We want to be open, friendly… We don’t want to play games with the kids.   On this day, too, a friend of ours messaged him and told him she was sorry that we had separated.  I had long changed my Facebook status to separated… Lol… You know it’s official when you change your status.   
He was actually a little shocked about that.  He didn’t know, and I could tell as the day progressed, and the conversation about how we could separate continued, that he and I both were coming to the conclusion that it was over. 
He still swore up and down though that it had nothing to do with her, and that he had not spoked a word to her since New Year’s Day.
I believed him.

About Walking the Journey

I'm a wife of 22+ years, a mother of three, a sister, a friend. This is my journey on healing after an affair. I'm full of sarcasm, humor and truth. Sharing the journey after my husbands affair, I'm hoping to rid myself of the demons and get a ticket out of crazy town that I'm living in.
This entry was posted in 5 stages of grief, affair, cheating husband, D-day, DDay, discovery day, extramarital affair, gaslighting, healing after the affair, homewrecker. Bookmark the permalink.

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