So it took me two months, but I finally sat down and told him I needed to talk. He groaned.
I talked about my needing to know their start and their end with my counselor. All three I have tried agreed it was a ‘normal’ thing to want know. All the hows and when’s and why’s of the start, and the end, because their finality of the relationship really does have to be over for us to try and move forward.
So I set a timer- per our previous counselor.
He agreed, very reluctantly.
I told him, “I’m struggling through a couple of things.” I go on to tell him that as time has gone by, emotions have cleared and settled a bit. I tell him I know he’s not a talker and that talking about these things makes him upset.
I don’t put in there how upset I am.
I tell him I need some clarification. I tell him that I know we have talked about these things before, but now that fog has cleared a bit with time, I would like to talk again.
I explain, quickly, because I know I will lose him if I ramble on. “The reason I think I’m stuck on these couple of points is because when I’ve asked before, you’ve answered. But since some of what you said does not make sense, I’ve asked again. Every time the answer is different. Toni has even addressed both of these points without me asking her at all, and it’s different than your version. So let’s get this out, tell the truth, help me through. It’s you I will believe.”
I throw one more pre-talk sentence in there, I truly do have to get this all in there before we talk, and fast. “After this talk, I will have no choice but to take you at your word and that’s that. I either believe and process, or I don’t.”
I can hear some of you yelling at me that I’m catering to him and babying him… believe me, I’m playing the game as best as I can. I know what I need and I am doing what I think will work.
I tell him it’s their start… and their finish.
(I think it’s when he did her Floors)
Me: When did you do her floors? You have records from your first job in 1995. But I can’t find their folder at all.
“I trashed it.” Why? “I didn’t want you to find it and get upset.” That makes no sense to me. It’s a job record. “It’s what I did.”
You told me she contacted you on Facebook about the floors. But after her husband passed in January, I saw a message from her thanking you for going to funeral. But there were no previous messages about the floor job. Why erase and delete the floor messages?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
(I breathe deep here. Ok. Ok. I can see by his expression he is somewhat confused by what I’m saying to him, so I go on)
I found pictures of her back deck on your iPad from October 2014. You said you were planning some kind of an addition with her husband.
“Yes. I walked around with him and took those pictures after the floors were done. So it was 10/2014 that I did their floors.”
(Her husband passed away 1/2015, just two months after the floor job. My husband and Toni hooked up 9/2015)
You told me that you went to her in September because you knew she liked you. How did you know that? Did something happen during the floor installation?
“No. I’ve known her since we were 10. I knew she had a crush on me a long time ago.”
So nothing happened during floors. “No.”
(I don’t know yet if I believe, but I have to take his word and stop making up my own scenario of their affair)
So almost exactly a year later, you show up unannounced out of nowhere at her job, take her to lunch.
Why? Why her? What made you show up like that?
“I became interested in her from following her on Facebook. I knew her from when we were younger, I knew her first husband. I was just interested. I knew she liked me.”
(I sit with this a bit. We talk a bit more about their start. The 15 minute timer goes off. We both look at it, and I ask if we can go on a bit more. We are doing good, emotions are all in check on both sides. He nods. Says, “5 more minutes.”)
What hurts is that you pursued her. You went out of your way to go to her.
He nods. Says, “I get that.”
I go into the second part… their end.
We go past the extra 5 minutes by about 20 minutes. Emotions start to go high, I start to lose it, I say something that sets him off and he starts throwing shit. He throws his iPad to the right of him. Picks up his phone, throws that against the left wall. Then picks up a water bottle and throws that.
Not at me… but still. He’s so hypocritical. I’ve done my fair share of throwing stuff in the past and his reaction is to not talk to me for a day or two. But yet he can do it.
I got in my car and left.
I broke my own rules.. the timer. If I had stuck to the timer rule, we may have been able to go again another night.
But we never talk, it just sits inside of me festering. There’s no other word for it. It’s poison. No matter what I do, how hard I work out, how much I journal or meditate… it’s still there. So we were doing good when the original timer went off… I didn’t want to stop.
I’ve been trying to write about their “end” for almost two years. I’ll try to do pt. 2 tomorrow.
This was Sunday night. It’s Thursday now. Monday morning after that fight, he was all apologetic and loving.
The only time that ever happens after a fight is when he knows he was wrong. 28 years together… I know him.
I want SO BAD to ask him what it was about her Facebook that got him so interested that he almost threw his family away. But not sure how to ask. Because right now? We are good. But yes… I do want to know.
Yes. Yes I do.
God… we are doing none of this right. I hate this roller coaster ride.
My friend will ask me, “what difference does it make now? It’s two years later, why worry about their start or their end now?”
I don’t know. But it does matter. It matters to me. It’s not been my choice that this disclosure crap has gone on this long. It’s been his choice to stick his head up his ass and spend all this time deflecting and turning everything on to me.
What am I fighting for? I don’t know right now. Maybe I will tomorrow.