My mom

Once in the heat of discovery, I called my mom to take me to my husbands workplace - suspecting that he was meeting someone there after hours.

My mom took me gladly and off I went - highly pregnant and pissed off. En route she told me that every woman should have a car. Not only for their our own independence, but so that we can track down our husbands whenever we need to. I believe her exact words were - no man should ever think that you can't reach them. A bit dramatic I thought at the time, but she was right. Men take advantage of our homeliness and get away with murder, simply because they have the car.

This year, my mom gave her car to me. A little beat up, but its mine free and clear. When I spoke about getting a family car, all she said was she hopes that I remember what she said. I had forgotten in that moment, how it had felt to call my own mother to track down my husband. The embarrassment and anger at the time was to much for me to bear...and now again, if I should call on her to do the same, she would do it in a heartbeat, but that wouldn't be fair.

So my freedom now stands in our driveway and he is confused as to why I won't give it up for a bigger car.

But I won't. Its mine.

Thanks mom for giving me that....

Lunchtime affairs

I don't know...I have noticed whenever I get my monthlies (periods), for a week before then I start to suspect that his cheating on me and its happening again.

He works down the road and yet never asks me for a cup of coffee, I always instigate it. I think his seeing someone. I think his struck a deal that he takes all his lunchtimes with her and after work is family. His so fiercely defensive of his lunchtimes...

I don't understand why he doesn't want to have lunch with me. I'm not talking daily...just sporadically. He tries to make me feel bad that I am doubting him, but that's an old trick of his. He makes me sound unreasonable and unjustified in my suspicions...until I have proof that is, and then there is no wiggle room.

I have come to terms with the fact that he doesn't want to spend more time with me than absolutely necessary. He says its because he needs to hang out with his friends...but I think he lies.

My mom gave me her car and in the first flush of receiving it, I thought we could trade in both our cars and get a really great family car - but I have since put that idea away.

I am keeping my car and I am going to save money.  He can have as many office flings as he likes, but the day will come when I am tired of his shit and I will leave.

I just need to him to hang around long enough to give me a second child and I am sure that I would be able to raise both kids without him. I don't want my son to be alone and I want my kids to have the same dad and my husband will just need to pay maintenance.

Maybe it is just PMS and in a week I will be fine again...but for today, I am sad.  I guess thats just how to goes sometimes...

Learning how to Listen

I am a counsellor by trade. I listen for a living. But for a long time now, I haven't really listened to my husband with the aim of just allowing him to share.

I have listened intently to catch him out on a lie...I have listened for inconsistencies and half truths. I would like to think I only stopped really listening to him when he started lying to me...but the truth is I stopped listening a long time ago.

I stopped listening to all the things my husband wasn't saying. I brushed it off thinking that he just wasn't the emotional type. I stopped watching his body language and missed all the times he eyes should have crinkled when he smiled at me, but didn't...when he should have been patient and kind with me, but wasn't.

I stopped paying attention.

I stopped listening and missed the cues within the silence that told me that something was seriously wrong. I made the mistake of thinking that all relationships go through stressful periods...its only in hindsight that I now know that what I was going through wasn't stress - it was infidelity.

Yesterday I listened to him. I bit my tongue, so as not to respond to issues I normally would have had a 2 hour conversation around.  I listened, because I realise that I don't really know my husband at all...and maybe I am partly to blame.

With every issue that comes up, I rush to fix it - to respond and debate for hours on end. I am exhausted by my own need to sort it out...sort him out. I talk and talk and talk, until I can't bear the sound of my own voice.

When I offered to just listen, he was surprised.  He said that what he had to say would just make me mad and he didn't want to ruin our day. I promised I wouldn't... he didn't believe me, but tested me anyway. It was good for us both. He spoke softly and every now and then glanced at me, to check whether I was about to pounce on what he had said. And to be honest, I really wanted to...but if I did, he was never going to share with me again.

So I listened and afterwards thanked him for sharing. Shaking off the need to make this a teachable moment for him and I allowed it to become a teachable moment for me instead. Maybe its time to start listening again and somewhere in ether we will find each other again.

Naming your daughter after a mistress

I have always known that I want more children. It scares the living daylights out of me, because my pregnancy last time was eventful to say the least. And yet, I want my second child. I want a playmate for my son and its NB that he doesn't grow up alone. There is something magical about us against the folks scenario ya know...

So yes, I would like a second child. The other night my husband and I chatted about the name we would give our daughter...we were thinking of Alyssa meaning joy or great happiness...and out of nowhere my mouth formed the question - did any of your other girlfriends have that name? He looked shocked for a minute and retreated in tense silence. I asked if he was annoyed and he said yes- how I could ask that. And I reminded him, that one of the possible names he volunteered was Abigail...that's right, the name of the first post wedding dalliance. He said nothing...but to honest he didn't really seem to have heard me.  He went to bed angry and I shrugged it off, because it was pretty much his problem.

The next morning I asked if he wanted to talk about it...once I promised to just listen, he shared with me that he was hurt and angry that I would think that he would stoop so low as to name our daughter after one of his mistresses. That I would think that he would punish me like that...I am glad I promised to listen, but I had to bite my tongue to not remind him about Abigail..

He said that maybe I should pick the name of our daughter - it was said in anger and little flippantly, but the truth is, I probably will. I want to because I need to know that the name I give my child, is the name that I want and not spawned out of some good feeling memories my husband might have.

It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth knowing what my husband is capable of...but perhaps what is more confusing is  seeing for the very first time how he has completely separated himself from what he used to be like. Its like he couldn't reconcile what he had once done to the man he is now. He was disgusted that I could even think that he would name our daughter after a mistress...but you know what, while I allow to warm my heart a little bit - there are some lessons that I would be foolish to forget.

I remember my husband turning on me in anger, when I discovered his first affair. I remember his seemingly annoyance that I could even consider that he was cheating me. I have learnt to take everything he says, with the wariness it deserves.

So he can be upset and even hurt...its water off a ducks back. The time for not wanting to hurt his feelings have come and gone, all is left is reality and a healthy skepticism of life as I know it.

Mugg and Bean for adulterers

So I love Mugg and Bean - its this coffee house with the BEST food and coffee in a relaxed environment and I must say that I have become pretty bitter about the fact that my husband took one of his harlots there.

I haven't been able to go close to a M&B in years now...and last night I made the mistake of thinking that I was over it. So post valentines day, the after glow of a exploring love I had thought that would be fine to go for a cup coffee with my husband. BAD MOVE!

The minute my butt sat on that chair and looked across at him, it all flooded back. I gazed at him and wondered how excited he must have been...how charming and eager to please. And I cried right there and then in a shopping mall with people walking past and everything. I tried to cry pretty tears but it become evident that that wasn't going to happen. Every time I looked at my husband,  a fresh batch of salty water trickled down my eyes. So I figured if I could just keep my head down it would be fine, and for a second it worked- but I would glance up when I thought I had regained control only to cry again.

We got out of there as fast as we could and I cried in the car the whole way home. I told him that Im not going to make a deal of it - I have said all there is to say and I have asked all my questions - its just that at times, the grief is so overwhelming that all I can do is cry.

My mind I saw this picture of a thousands of little pieces of mirror twinkling in the darkness...it was my heart. I was wrong, when I thought it was fixed...

Does it ever go away - the scar that that infidelity leaves, the pain of betrayal and loss.

I asked myself why I was crying, its not like our relationship was going all that great in the first place. Why cry for something that I wouldn't ever want again... and Mrs Jones came onto the radio and I totally lost my shit and bawled like baby in the front seat of our car.I think I almost broke the radio in trying to switch it off.

I looked at the thick inky blackness of my husbands hair and wondered how many fingers have run through it...I wondered if he missed any of it.

At any rate, I think its fairly safe to say that my beloved Mugg and Bean needs to be taken off the list of restaurants I can go to...and that aint right...

Valentines Day for the Brave

Last year, I told him that I didn't want anything for valentines day and I emphatically told him to forget about our wedding anniversary...love was a dirty word in my home and I just didn't want to hear it...

Over the last year, I decided to try...and come January this year I told him I was ready to hear that he loves me. So with trepidation and little excitement for the first time in years, I planned for valentines day. I say the first time in years, because I previously made the monumental mistake of not celebrating ( because it was so expensive)...so no valetines have been seen for a while.

It was sweet, we stayed home (he bunked work, which is unheard of), we caught a cheap movie at the cinema and we exchanged gifts.  He wrote me a letter...and I teared up. His only ever eloquent on paper...I wish that he would have courage to look me in the eye and tell me what he feels-  but he says that when he writes he can really express himself and I get that...

I loved my Valentines Day - In many ways our very first..

On the 1st of March is our wedding anniversary and I don't know if I am ready to celebrate that yet. In my spirit I still don't understand why he married me, if he wanted a different kind of life. So maybe I am not ready yet for that...

Maybe this next year - it will be different :-)