The weekend that D was away with the bellydander on some bellydancing convention in Cityville, I was staying calm by counting my blessings.
I had a gorgeous, terrific, funny, sweet, charming Little One.
I had a house that I could afford to keep, therefore keeping Little One in her home.
I had a good job.
I no longer had to worry about D.
That last one was the one that kept making the most difference, because it allowed me to back the hell up a little and see my life for what it really was. The more I was away from D, the more I started to peel away the layers I'd put on myself during years of self-protection and find me, the me I'd been before the marriage.
I was astounded to discover how much I had changed who I was in order to save my marriage.
And I was ever so slightly more astounded to discover that D had absolutely no idea.
No wonder I'd resented him for years. No wonder I'd been completely passive aggressive. I kept moving, and shifting, and changing, and morphing, the whole time trying to become a woman who could first keep D happy, and then keep D and Little One happy. I realized that I had completely forgotten about myself.
And it showed. I had never lost the 20 pounds of baby weight; in fact, I'd gained another ten. I was drawn and sallow. My laugh sounded forced and slightly harsh. I hated myself for failing in my marriage, hated myself for being an imperfect mother, hated myself for not being a perfect wife.
How had I missed this?
In retrospect, I don't think I did miss it; I think I knew the whole time, but kept my head firmly planted in the sand. I just didn't want to come to terms with what I was doing or why I was doing it. I just wanted to forge ahead, and get to some point called "Happy" which was out there, somewhere, floating nebulously between here and death.
So when D returned from his bellydancer orgy or whatever it was (can you tell how much that stung?), I was able to be even and kind and bored with him. I didn't ask how his trip was. I didn't dig for information. I just kind of existed, calmly, not engaging in any small talk, just focusing on being me. Whoever that might turn out to be.
Interestingly, that same weekend, I got four calls from "Anonymous" on my phone. The irony was not lost on me. I was never home when any of them came through, and they didn't leave a phone number. But part of me fantasized that Mr. Anonymous was calling me for some reason...perhaps he just couldn't wait for the juicy morsels I could deliver?
And so, then it was Christmas. And my present to myself was the strictest of parenting plans. It addressed D's drug use and alcoholism. It gave me license to request a pee test if I ever felt that D had been drinking or drugging prior to having Little One. I could even take him to court over anything I might deem appropriate. And I had explained each of these points to him.
And what did he do when I explained each and every point? You might remember, he nodded and said, Okay, next. That was all. That lack of engagement made me crazy and happy at the same time. On the one hand, I was getting exactly the level of control that I wanted and needed to have in order to protect Little One long-term. On the other hand, HOW DID HE NOT CARE?! I just didn't get it.
Either way, I was getting the divorce I deserved. And so I added to my list of blessings:
I had a devilish little angel named Sally the Bellydancer, and she gave me everything I ever wanted for Christmas.
Of course, that didn't mean I hated her any less. I'm only human, after all.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
26. Smug and Untrusthworthy? Who, me?
Yeah, so...this night, the night before D was going to leave for some fucking bellydancer orgy in Cityville, I was feeling happy that Mr. Bellydancer (alleged) wanted to talk to me and reveal himself. And I was thrilled at the prospect of getting some sense of revenge - even if it was just in my head.
After D brought Little One in, I could tell he was worked up about something. He was doing that chewing-the-inside-of-his-cheek thing which was a direct indicator of shit about to fly. So I waited, patiently, sitting on my couch (throne), as D (my subject) chewed his cheeks and worked up the cojones to say something "important."
(As I look back on this moment now, I know that he was uncomfortable with what he was about to do, on some level, i.e. going away with this married woman while he was still married. Even though she'd filed for divorce a month after I had, it was still just an ugly thing to do, especially the weekend before Christmas. The worse part was, he had voluntarily given up time with his daughter to do it. That part bugged me the most.)
But at this point, I just sat, and waited.
Finally he launched in to some sort of revision of the parenting plan that he wanted - some different hours or nights or weekend days or some such. It was at this point that I realized - quite rightly - that he was baiting me into a confrontation.
So I smiled. I smiled, and it unnerved him. It's actually a good thing that he didn't know me better, because the basis of my smile was this: D, I'm going to fuck you up the ass with your girlfriend's husband. But the end result of unnerving him was to catapult him that much further down the cheek-chewing path to confrontation.
At some point, I came right out and told him that him giving up time with Little One so early into the parenting plan process was not a very good sign for his ability to stick with the parenting plan in the future.
"What, you mean you don't trust me?" he asked. He actually asked that question of me.
I told him I believed he believed he could be a good dad and stick to the plan. "But you think I won’t be able to do it," he stated.
"All I have to base my opinion on is the past. And the present, which hasn’t been so hot, either," I explained.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked. Again, he actually asked that question.
"D, you've had a girlfriend behind my back since September, and that informs my ability to trust you in this moment."
"Well," D fumed, "I don't trust you either. Through our whole marriage, we could talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, and nothing would ever change, and you're telling me that the past doesn't matter, and it's just what I recently did that matters."
"Oh no, D," I corrected him. "Our marriage is certainly on the table when I consider how trustworthy you are."
As I delivered this truth, I just smiled, calmly. It was true that our marriage had been full of things that we had both promised each other we would do for each other, and then not done. I would get in shape. He would stop drinking. I would try to keep the house cleaner. He would stop drinking. I would help him find a job. He would stop drinking.
"You're so fucking smug, sitting there on your couch," he replied.
At this moment, it felt great to calmly look him in the eye from my perch, and simply say, "You know what, D? I think I'm done talking for tonight. This conversation isn't going to go anywhere, and we both know that. So why don't you head on out, and we'll see you when you get back."
A few minutes later, with a couple of mea culpas thrown in for good measure (by him, I mean), he slunk out the door.
So – there you have it. The more he pushed me on stuff like this, the more I could see his “tells” – the quicker speech pattern, the tightening of the face, the one foot out the door (literally). And it’s funny how, in being honest with him, he turned it around and made the whole thing into my fault. How often has he done this in our marriage? I had to wonder. But I also finally knew that it was pointless to try and reason with him, that’s for damn sure.
And so – I decided that night that my new goal was to no longer expect, nor need, reason from him. I was astounded by just how wrong he had been, about everything. He really did see things a certain way, and had no ability to reign in his words when his emotions got the better of him.
And ultimately, he just sounded really dumb. And that was not my fault, I knew that much, at least.
Later that night, I was feeling pretty calm. I just didn’t have it in me to get all worked up about this stuff now. There had been so much that had happened, and at this moment in time, I had ALL the paperwork signed, sealed, and ready to be delivered to the courthouse come the first business day in January. For my own emotional growth and well-being, I had no more to gain from being invested in him, or in how he reacted to me or things I said. What’s more, I had nothing to gain from reacting to him with anything other than calm smiles. That apparently made him NUTS! I loved it!
There was one other point that I realized; during the course of this conversation, he only really started to get defensive when I mentioned the girlfriend.
I didn’t expect any sort of mea culpa on this. I should have probably made that my mantra from now on. Throw it out there, just let it be, and then just shrug when he tries to throw it all back at me. And smile.
I felt so, so lucky to be getting out of this marriage! No wonder I had been so unhappy for so long. D was just so out of touch and unhappy and touchy and defensive and selfish and stupid and hurtful and self-righteous.
Two nights before this, I was heartbroken over the fact that he was going away with the bellydancer. Then, I had the email conversation with Anonymous Tipper, with him/her asking me to help them. So tonight, I felt great when he was here, didn’t really care to be offended or anything. Because I kept thinking, I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU.
Even if I didn't end up actually doing it still felt good at that moment to think that I might.
Oh, and one more thing.
I had purposely left out the new Tiger Woods scandal-laden People magazine cover on the coffee table, directly in D's line of sight. (This was the one for Dec. 21, 2009, and the headline was INSIDE HER ORDEAL: More cheating revealed, etc.) And while he and I were talking about something else, he rearranged two DVDs on the table to cover up the magazine. I suspect that he didn't even know he was doing it.
Like so much in his existence, D had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
I felt exhilarated with this new knowledge until I realized one terrible truth:
This man was still my Little One's father, and I would have to figure out how to protect her from him.
Well, so that would have to come next, in the form of the extremely strict parenting plan.
After D brought Little One in, I could tell he was worked up about something. He was doing that chewing-the-inside-of-his-cheek thing which was a direct indicator of shit about to fly. So I waited, patiently, sitting on my couch (throne), as D (my subject) chewed his cheeks and worked up the cojones to say something "important."
(As I look back on this moment now, I know that he was uncomfortable with what he was about to do, on some level, i.e. going away with this married woman while he was still married. Even though she'd filed for divorce a month after I had, it was still just an ugly thing to do, especially the weekend before Christmas. The worse part was, he had voluntarily given up time with his daughter to do it. That part bugged me the most.)
But at this point, I just sat, and waited.
Finally he launched in to some sort of revision of the parenting plan that he wanted - some different hours or nights or weekend days or some such. It was at this point that I realized - quite rightly - that he was baiting me into a confrontation.
So I smiled. I smiled, and it unnerved him. It's actually a good thing that he didn't know me better, because the basis of my smile was this: D, I'm going to fuck you up the ass with your girlfriend's husband. But the end result of unnerving him was to catapult him that much further down the cheek-chewing path to confrontation.
At some point, I came right out and told him that him giving up time with Little One so early into the parenting plan process was not a very good sign for his ability to stick with the parenting plan in the future.
"What, you mean you don't trust me?" he asked. He actually asked that question of me.
I told him I believed he believed he could be a good dad and stick to the plan. "But you think I won’t be able to do it," he stated.
"All I have to base my opinion on is the past. And the present, which hasn’t been so hot, either," I explained.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked. Again, he actually asked that question.
"D, you've had a girlfriend behind my back since September, and that informs my ability to trust you in this moment."
"Well," D fumed, "I don't trust you either. Through our whole marriage, we could talk, and talk, and talk, and talk, and nothing would ever change, and you're telling me that the past doesn't matter, and it's just what I recently did that matters."
"Oh no, D," I corrected him. "Our marriage is certainly on the table when I consider how trustworthy you are."
As I delivered this truth, I just smiled, calmly. It was true that our marriage had been full of things that we had both promised each other we would do for each other, and then not done. I would get in shape. He would stop drinking. I would try to keep the house cleaner. He would stop drinking. I would help him find a job. He would stop drinking.
"You're so fucking smug, sitting there on your couch," he replied.
At this moment, it felt great to calmly look him in the eye from my perch, and simply say, "You know what, D? I think I'm done talking for tonight. This conversation isn't going to go anywhere, and we both know that. So why don't you head on out, and we'll see you when you get back."
A few minutes later, with a couple of mea culpas thrown in for good measure (by him, I mean), he slunk out the door.
So – there you have it. The more he pushed me on stuff like this, the more I could see his “tells” – the quicker speech pattern, the tightening of the face, the one foot out the door (literally). And it’s funny how, in being honest with him, he turned it around and made the whole thing into my fault. How often has he done this in our marriage? I had to wonder. But I also finally knew that it was pointless to try and reason with him, that’s for damn sure.
And so – I decided that night that my new goal was to no longer expect, nor need, reason from him. I was astounded by just how wrong he had been, about everything. He really did see things a certain way, and had no ability to reign in his words when his emotions got the better of him.
And ultimately, he just sounded really dumb. And that was not my fault, I knew that much, at least.
Later that night, I was feeling pretty calm. I just didn’t have it in me to get all worked up about this stuff now. There had been so much that had happened, and at this moment in time, I had ALL the paperwork signed, sealed, and ready to be delivered to the courthouse come the first business day in January. For my own emotional growth and well-being, I had no more to gain from being invested in him, or in how he reacted to me or things I said. What’s more, I had nothing to gain from reacting to him with anything other than calm smiles. That apparently made him NUTS! I loved it!
There was one other point that I realized; during the course of this conversation, he only really started to get defensive when I mentioned the girlfriend.
I didn’t expect any sort of mea culpa on this. I should have probably made that my mantra from now on. Throw it out there, just let it be, and then just shrug when he tries to throw it all back at me. And smile.
I felt so, so lucky to be getting out of this marriage! No wonder I had been so unhappy for so long. D was just so out of touch and unhappy and touchy and defensive and selfish and stupid and hurtful and self-righteous.
Two nights before this, I was heartbroken over the fact that he was going away with the bellydancer. Then, I had the email conversation with Anonymous Tipper, with him/her asking me to help them. So tonight, I felt great when he was here, didn’t really care to be offended or anything. Because I kept thinking, I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU.
Even if I didn't end up actually doing it still felt good at that moment to think that I might.
Oh, and one more thing.
I had purposely left out the new Tiger Woods scandal-laden People magazine cover on the coffee table, directly in D's line of sight. (This was the one for Dec. 21, 2009, and the headline was INSIDE HER ORDEAL: More cheating revealed, etc.) And while he and I were talking about something else, he rearranged two DVDs on the table to cover up the magazine. I suspect that he didn't even know he was doing it.
Like so much in his existence, D had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
I felt exhilarated with this new knowledge until I realized one terrible truth:
This man was still my Little One's father, and I would have to figure out how to protect her from him.
Well, so that would have to come next, in the form of the extremely strict parenting plan.
25. The High Road Sucks.
Mr. Anonymous was nothing if not relatively time-sensitive. In fact, he responded within 2 hours.
From: anonymous [mailto:husbandishavinganaffair@gmail.com]
Ah, so it IS you, Mr. Bellydancer, I thought, as I read the email response. Well. Okay, then.
I wasn't ready to talk to him. I had my eye on a singular prize: a January divorce. I was going to have my divorce finalized on the first weekday in January, so that I could file joint taxes for the year I was in, and still get the divorce done as quickly as possible. Two weeks, I figured, roughly two weeks. I could wait.
So I figured I'd write back right away, letting Mr. Anonymous know my exact timeframe.
Conversation: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Thanks, I appreciate that. I do have one question for you with respect to timing: do you have a specific date by which you'd like to talk and potentially receive the information you need?
I'm asking because I anticipate having my divorce finalized in court the week of Jan. 4. I am wondering if perhaps it might be better if I wait until after that date to speak with you. Would that work for you? As you can probably tell, I'm extremely excited at the prospect of no longer being married, and want to be cautious about rocking the boat until then. :)
With respect to how to handle a call, I have a personal conference line - seems like the most logical way for both of us to proceed. I can give you that call-in info once we settle on timing.
His response, once again, came within hours.
From: anonymous [mailto:husbandishavinganaffair@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, December 18, 2:48 PM
To: Penelope
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Sounds good, Penelope. Let's chat once your situation is finalized. Thank you.
Ever solicitous, this Mr. Anonymous. (Kind of reminded me of D, when he was trying to get something he wanted. And D would become even more like that post-divorce - but more on that later.)
Against the backdrop of D leaving the next morning for Cityville with the bellydancer for a weekend of bellydancing and who knows what all else, I found this recent development with Mr. Anonymous nothing short of elating. Finally, I thought - I will know for sure who this motherfucker/angel is, and I will be able to put all of this to rest! I can't tell you how good it felt, just to think about being the kind of person who would use him to get back at the bellydancer and D.
I say "think about being the kind of person" because, realistically, I'm not a rabble-rouser. Getting in trouble makes me sick to my stomach. The thrill of these moments was rooted in their impossibility. I could never be that person.
And that really, really pissed me off.
The high road is simply exhausting. So what if I wanted to take an imaginary detour every once in a while? I was entitled, I figured. I'd followed the letter of the law in everything related to the divorce. I was a pretty fine mom. I worked hard. I made sure D was provided for in the financials, short of giving him alimony.
So that evening, when D came over to drop off Little One from one of his pre-arranged manny visits with her (I called him the manny - male nanny - regularly, but never to his face), I was feeling rather happy. It was odd, since "happy" was not an emotion I'd felt very much when D was around, not for a long time.
And thus began the final Big Fight of 2009: where D accused me of being "smug" and "untrustworthy." Yep, really. I'll get to that in the next post.
From: anonymous [mailto:husbandishavinganaffair@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, December 18, 11:14 AM
To: Penelope
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Absolutely. I understand, as my situation is also delicate (and parallel in more ways than one :).
Please let me know the best way to handle a call when you're ready.
Ah, so it IS you, Mr. Bellydancer, I thought, as I read the email response. Well. Okay, then.
I wasn't ready to talk to him. I had my eye on a singular prize: a January divorce. I was going to have my divorce finalized on the first weekday in January, so that I could file joint taxes for the year I was in, and still get the divorce done as quickly as possible. Two weeks, I figured, roughly two weeks. I could wait.
So I figured I'd write back right away, letting Mr. Anonymous know my exact timeframe.
From: "Penelope"
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 11:24:32 -0800
To: anonymous Conversation: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Thanks, I appreciate that. I do have one question for you with respect to timing: do you have a specific date by which you'd like to talk and potentially receive the information you need?
I'm asking because I anticipate having my divorce finalized in court the week of Jan. 4. I am wondering if perhaps it might be better if I wait until after that date to speak with you. Would that work for you? As you can probably tell, I'm extremely excited at the prospect of no longer being married, and want to be cautious about rocking the boat until then. :)
With respect to how to handle a call, I have a personal conference line - seems like the most logical way for both of us to proceed. I can give you that call-in info once we settle on timing.
His response, once again, came within hours.
From: anonymous [mailto:husbandishavinganaffair@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, December 18, 2:48 PM
To: Penelope
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Sounds good, Penelope. Let's chat once your situation is finalized. Thank you.
Ever solicitous, this Mr. Anonymous. (Kind of reminded me of D, when he was trying to get something he wanted. And D would become even more like that post-divorce - but more on that later.)
Against the backdrop of D leaving the next morning for Cityville with the bellydancer for a weekend of bellydancing and who knows what all else, I found this recent development with Mr. Anonymous nothing short of elating. Finally, I thought - I will know for sure who this motherfucker/angel is, and I will be able to put all of this to rest! I can't tell you how good it felt, just to think about being the kind of person who would use him to get back at the bellydancer and D.
I say "think about being the kind of person" because, realistically, I'm not a rabble-rouser. Getting in trouble makes me sick to my stomach. The thrill of these moments was rooted in their impossibility. I could never be that person.
And that really, really pissed me off.
The high road is simply exhausting. So what if I wanted to take an imaginary detour every once in a while? I was entitled, I figured. I'd followed the letter of the law in everything related to the divorce. I was a pretty fine mom. I worked hard. I made sure D was provided for in the financials, short of giving him alimony.
So that evening, when D came over to drop off Little One from one of his pre-arranged manny visits with her (I called him the manny - male nanny - regularly, but never to his face), I was feeling rather happy. It was odd, since "happy" was not an emotion I'd felt very much when D was around, not for a long time.
And thus began the final Big Fight of 2009: where D accused me of being "smug" and "untrustworthy." Yep, really. I'll get to that in the next post.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
24. "D Needs to Prove He's a Good Guy" Lane
Right around this time, I decided to count my blessings again. While I was most grateful for my child, our health, and the fact that I could pay my bills and put food on our table, I was exceedingly grateful that the divorce was going so smoothly.
"Have you called a lawyer to represent you?" I'd ask.
"No, I trust you to do everything and to do it right," D would reply.
"We have to work out the parenting plan, to establish what nights you'll have her. Let's sit down and talk through these 18 outstanding points," I'd say.
"Okay," he would reply. And after I'd taken him through each one, he'd say, "They all sound great."
"I can't afford to and won't give you alimony," I'd say.
"Okay, I understand," he'd say.
"The state expects you to pay this much in child support every month," I'd say.
"Okay," he'd say. "When are you giving me half of your 401K again?"
Well, okay. Up until that last point - which came up a lot, and the answer was "not until after the divorce is final, so I can provide the financial firm with the divorce decree" - you can see that we had turned a corner in our conflict negotiation. We'd been on D Wins No Matter What Street so long, I nearly missed the hard right turn around D Screwed Up Big-Time Corner leading into to D Needs to Prove He's a Good Guy Lane. And now that I was there, I was planning on building a house there.
But all was not well. Even though the divorce was going easily and quickly - it appeared that the divorce process would last only four months - I was deeply hurt that D would be going to Cityville with Bellydancer a few days before Christmas. It just plain hurt, for the reasons I outlined in the last post. And it was clear to me that he really didn't get why I would be hurt.
So I tuned him out, as best I could. When he came over, I said please and thank you, but did not engage in conversation with him beyond questions related to Little One. I limited all contact as much as possible. It didn't matter: I could only think of the fact that he was choosing to go away with this whore the weekend before Christmas and give up time with Little One to do it, so fresh into our parenting plan adventures. And the worst part was that he seemed impervious to the emotional ramifications for me.
That’s where I kept getting caught in my thought process: he simply didn’t care about my feelings anymore.
But really, when had he ever? He would say he did, and he seemed to, sometimes. But other times he’d say horrible things and be terrible. Had that person really ever cared about me?
I wasn't not sure he ever had. He hated himself too much to really love anyone else. Or some other bullshit like that.
Whatever. The truth is, he just didn’t care about how I felt or what I felt anymore. I mean, it was clear that he hadn’t during this whole divorce process, although I guess if you count him “hiding” his relationship with the mother-whore, then sure, he must have cared. But I don’t really think he honestly cared about my feelings. He cared about getting caught and being called out on being the cad he is.
I was so, so disappointed in him. And I was disappointed in myself for loving him for so long and for buying his bullshit for years. He never really changed. He never really wanted the life he said he wanted. He rode my coattails for years, occasionally chipping in when he felt like it, but rather than get a job he told me I should just spend less.
I felt so much hate, so much anger about being betrayed - and it wasn't just that the divorce process had brought all this to light. No, with more time spent apart, I was starting to realize how much of my energy and life had been formerly dedicated to keeping D happy and to keeping the peace.
Man, but that asshole didn't deserve it. And oh, how I had tried.
So I reached out to Mr. Anonymous right after D told me about his little Cityville adventure coming up. Only, I reached out in a way I could feel good about:
I needed to reach out and thank this person who had helped me to achieve my new plot of land on D Needs to Prove He's a Good Guy Lane. Because it appeared I'd be able to live there quite comfortably for some time. Granted, I knew that Mr. Anonymous's motives were selfish ones, but I really did think the balance with D had tipped in my favor as a result of Mr. A. And I wanted him to know that.
Interestingly, I didn't hear back for over a week. When I did hear back, Mr. Anonymous timed his response to coincide with the trip that his wife and my husband were embarking on.
The more vengeful part of my brain replied, Ah, interesting, Mr. Anonymous - your timing is impeccable, as you must know that I could not be happy about the impending trip. What's more, you want to talk, eh? Well, now. This could be fun.
The paranoid part, the larger part, said in big bold letters, THIS GUY IS FUCKING CREEPY AND YOU NEED TO STEER CLEAR OF HIM UNTIL THE DIVORCE IS DONE! RUN! RUN!!
So, I did what I had failed to do throughout most of my marriage: I put myself first:
From: "Penelope" <>
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 10:02:44 -0800
To: anonymous
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Glad you wrote back. My interest is piqued, as is my curiosity. If I can, I would be happy to help you.
So - I will give you a qualified "yes," meaning that I'd be happy to talk to you on the phone, but can't really be sure what information I can and will share until I know who you are, and in what context you're asking. Strictly in the interest of protecting myself and the delicacies of my current situation - I hope you understand.
Does that work for you?
"Have you called a lawyer to represent you?" I'd ask.
"No, I trust you to do everything and to do it right," D would reply.
"We have to work out the parenting plan, to establish what nights you'll have her. Let's sit down and talk through these 18 outstanding points," I'd say.
"Okay," he would reply. And after I'd taken him through each one, he'd say, "They all sound great."
"I can't afford to and won't give you alimony," I'd say.
"Okay, I understand," he'd say.
"The state expects you to pay this much in child support every month," I'd say.
"Okay," he'd say. "When are you giving me half of your 401K again?"
Well, okay. Up until that last point - which came up a lot, and the answer was "not until after the divorce is final, so I can provide the financial firm with the divorce decree" - you can see that we had turned a corner in our conflict negotiation. We'd been on D Wins No Matter What Street so long, I nearly missed the hard right turn around D Screwed Up Big-Time Corner leading into to D Needs to Prove He's a Good Guy Lane. And now that I was there, I was planning on building a house there.
But all was not well. Even though the divorce was going easily and quickly - it appeared that the divorce process would last only four months - I was deeply hurt that D would be going to Cityville with Bellydancer a few days before Christmas. It just plain hurt, for the reasons I outlined in the last post. And it was clear to me that he really didn't get why I would be hurt.
So I tuned him out, as best I could. When he came over, I said please and thank you, but did not engage in conversation with him beyond questions related to Little One. I limited all contact as much as possible. It didn't matter: I could only think of the fact that he was choosing to go away with this whore the weekend before Christmas and give up time with Little One to do it, so fresh into our parenting plan adventures. And the worst part was that he seemed impervious to the emotional ramifications for me.
That’s where I kept getting caught in my thought process: he simply didn’t care about my feelings anymore.
But really, when had he ever? He would say he did, and he seemed to, sometimes. But other times he’d say horrible things and be terrible. Had that person really ever cared about me?
I wasn't not sure he ever had. He hated himself too much to really love anyone else. Or some other bullshit like that.
Whatever. The truth is, he just didn’t care about how I felt or what I felt anymore. I mean, it was clear that he hadn’t during this whole divorce process, although I guess if you count him “hiding” his relationship with the mother-whore, then sure, he must have cared. But I don’t really think he honestly cared about my feelings. He cared about getting caught and being called out on being the cad he is.
I was so, so disappointed in him. And I was disappointed in myself for loving him for so long and for buying his bullshit for years. He never really changed. He never really wanted the life he said he wanted. He rode my coattails for years, occasionally chipping in when he felt like it, but rather than get a job he told me I should just spend less.
I felt so much hate, so much anger about being betrayed - and it wasn't just that the divorce process had brought all this to light. No, with more time spent apart, I was starting to realize how much of my energy and life had been formerly dedicated to keeping D happy and to keeping the peace.
Man, but that asshole didn't deserve it. And oh, how I had tried.
So I reached out to Mr. Anonymous right after D told me about his little Cityville adventure coming up. Only, I reached out in a way I could feel good about:
From: Penelope <>
Sent: Friday, December 11, 9:45 AM
To: d_is_having_an_affair
Subject: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Hello again. I just wanted to let you know that I still appreciate you helping me to see the situation as it actually was, and not how it was being presented to me. It sparked a rather interesting and bumpy chain of events, the result of which is me getting the divorce my daughter and I deserve, so there was a lot of good that came out of it.
And the two people who caused this will now have each other to contend with. I can't tell you how much that both annoys me and pleases me. More so the latter than the former, however.
Granted, I still don't officially know who you are. So there's not much I can specifically address. Regardless, I wanted to wish you well, and again express my gratitude for having the balls to tell me what the coward I'm divorcing could not. It made a world of difference.
Penelope
Sent: Friday, December 11, 9:45 AM
To: d_is_having_an_affair
Subject: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Hello again. I just wanted to let you know that I still appreciate you helping me to see the situation as it actually was, and not how it was being presented to me. It sparked a rather interesting and bumpy chain of events, the result of which is me getting the divorce my daughter and I deserve, so there was a lot of good that came out of it.
And the two people who caused this will now have each other to contend with. I can't tell you how much that both annoys me and pleases me. More so the latter than the former, however.
Granted, I still don't officially know who you are. So there's not much I can specifically address. Regardless, I wanted to wish you well, and again express my gratitude for having the balls to tell me what the coward I'm divorcing could not. It made a world of difference.
Penelope
I needed to reach out and thank this person who had helped me to achieve my new plot of land on D Needs to Prove He's a Good Guy Lane. Because it appeared I'd be able to live there quite comfortably for some time. Granted, I knew that Mr. Anonymous's motives were selfish ones, but I really did think the balance with D had tipped in my favor as a result of Mr. A. And I wanted him to know that.
Interestingly, I didn't hear back for over a week. When I did hear back, Mr. Anonymous timed his response to coincide with the trip that his wife and my husband were embarking on.
From: anonymous [mailto:husbandishavinganaffair@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, December 18, 9:51 AM
To: Penelope
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Penelope, I'm glad to know this was helpful to you. I struggled with whether or not to tell you. I did not want to meddle. But it was the right thing to do. I would have wanted someone to tell me.
It turns out that there is a chance you might have information that could help me. I wonder if we might set up a brief phone call sometime in the next couple weeks? I will be happy to confirm my identity then. Not trying to play games, it would just be easier that way.
Sent: Friday, December 18, 9:51 AM
To: Penelope
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Penelope, I'm glad to know this was helpful to you. I struggled with whether or not to tell you. I did not want to meddle. But it was the right thing to do. I would have wanted someone to tell me.
It turns out that there is a chance you might have information that could help me. I wonder if we might set up a brief phone call sometime in the next couple weeks? I will be happy to confirm my identity then. Not trying to play games, it would just be easier that way.
The more vengeful part of my brain replied, Ah, interesting, Mr. Anonymous - your timing is impeccable, as you must know that I could not be happy about the impending trip. What's more, you want to talk, eh? Well, now. This could be fun.
The paranoid part, the larger part, said in big bold letters, THIS GUY IS FUCKING CREEPY AND YOU NEED TO STEER CLEAR OF HIM UNTIL THE DIVORCE IS DONE! RUN! RUN!!
So, I did what I had failed to do throughout most of my marriage: I put myself first:
From: "Penelope" <>
Date: Fri, 18 Dec 10:02:44 -0800
To: anonymous
Subject: RE: This is (so not) difficult to say...
Glad you wrote back. My interest is piqued, as is my curiosity. If I can, I would be happy to help you.
So - I will give you a qualified "yes," meaning that I'd be happy to talk to you on the phone, but can't really be sure what information I can and will share until I know who you are, and in what context you're asking. Strictly in the interest of protecting myself and the delicacies of my current situation - I hope you understand.
Does that work for you?
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