Bleh

So I 'm back here following his wife invading what was originally supposed to be a safe zone for me.  Of course this was for the second fucking time.  Cute.  Its all for my best interest, lets not forget that.  He didn't want to do this.  It had to be done.  Of course this is the man who does nothing...and I mean nothing he doesn't want to do.  At least very rarely.  Whatever.  I mean, its nothing right?  What woman wouldn't be completely OK with having her boyfriend's actual partner come into the place she considers home...sleep in the bed she considers hers...oh and use just about everything in the fucking house that she picked out, used or otherwise had some sort of involvement in bringing in here?  Yeah, you guessed it.  This one!!  Not only that, but she hasn't even completely left here...I just found one of her fucking blouses tucked away upstairs with his dress shirts.  I can only assume we picked it up today while getting the laundry.  That shit is totally disappearing when I get a chance.  As far as I'm concerned if it was still here when I get back, its my fucking territory.  Claws are out, and we're talking to a tigress degree.

So what am I doing now?  Sitting across the room, while he chats with her on Whatsapp and our son sleeps in the crib in the master bedroom.  Yeah...not 'my' room, or 'our' room anymore.  'His' room feels more accurate...but alas I have to sleep there too, believe me when I say I'll do, tolerate, and subject myself to anything to be with him.  As fucking livid as I am it doesn't change the fact that I'm absolutely head over heels in love with him...and I absolutely chose to go through this.  Doesn't mean its easy, doesn't mean I like it, and doesn't mean that a good portion of the time I feel like I just need to vent and let it all out.  Something I can't do, except when I write.  So here I am, writing, while he does, says whatever he does and says with her....and I have to pretend it doesn't matter.  Because it shouldn't...right?  He's leaving her for me in a matter of time, he's told me that.  He's just treading water as it were.  Who knew treading water could be so God damned painful?

I don't even know what I'm writing for.  I'm just pissed.  Fucking pissed.  I want to explode.  I want to scream.  The problem is there is no one to scream at.  No one to explode on.  This is all my own doing.  I know that's what I 'd get told...its the way it has to be...I have to find a way to shoulder it...because its terrible for him too.  Yeah....

Awakenings

It's times like these I wonder why I keep allowing myself to believe, to hope and dream. I see the words depart my lips, it's an actual visual event. Letters tumbling over one another as if battling for space, all conveying the same message: 'I'm giving in to the weight, I'm going to be a realist, I'm going to admit my defeat and finally allow myself to understand that this is as good as it gets. This moment right here, once it's gone...I'll be alone 'mostly' from thereon forward.'  I see the words, the individual letters, I hear the syllables and tone of my voice. I taste the bitterness of what they mean. And yet, even with that I still can't let myself actually embrace the magnitude, the reality, the acid burn of the situation.

Contrary to what you, or even I, might be thinking...I'm not sticking my head in the sand anymore. I know what is going on. I've suspected for as long as I've known he's married. Of course there was some lingering hope that perhaps I was wrong, that maybe he really was pulling away, emotionally and physically distant from her. I know better now. Whether it be from sights witnessed by my own eyes, a gut feeling, or other evidence ...is ultimately irrelevant. All that truly matters is that I have a full grasp of everything.

For such a long time I used to think that there was something 'special' about the fact that I knew 'everything'. I knew about her, I knew about their relationship...when they were together, what they talked about etc. I wasn't the one being betrayed

You might think that I blame him in all this. You might even believe I'd be right and justified to do so.   However, I see it all rather differently. I'm the one that allows this to happen. I choose to allow myself to believe the rosier side of things versus looking at the reality that is glaring in my face. For the first time in forever he actually jumped and snatched his phone away from me today when I reached for it. With the statement of 'let me clear this before you see something you don't want to before going through my phone'. Really?!  Going through your phone...yes that was my plan as we were sitting shoulder to shoulder. And just what in the fuck were you talking about with the wife at 0100 or 0200 her time. Yeah I'm sure that was you just 'playing along' and 'keeping suspicions down'. Riiiight. Just like you supposedly never have intimate conversations with her.....uh huh. And I just saw Aladdin fly by on his magical Arabian carpet.

But once again, I choose this. I love him. I choose what I'm willing to tolerate and endure, and while the need to vent is likely to happen often...hell I'm sure with increasing frequency, I'm not going anywhere. He, our son...our love...they're my life.  So whatever it is that I have to shoulder to continue having all of that...I will. It was my choice, my decision to make and my choice was made long ago and has never wavered.

Torment and Happiness

It's been awhile for sure. Much has changed.

While I'd once only suspected I was your mistress, I've since found that is indeed my reality. A reality that you try to reassure me you're trying to change.  Deep down I think I know it never will. You'd have changed it if you were going to by now. We're two years into our relationship, we love each other, you say you're happiest with me...yet still I remain a mistress. I reckon I always will. That's my penance to pay, for what?  I don't know...but I'm sure in some way shape or form I'm getting exactly what I deserve. Karma and all that jazz.

I'm also nearly 5 months pregnant with our son. A son your family will likely never know about, or at the very least won't know about until they've lost a goodly portion of irretrievable moments with him...and he with them. To be honest though, it is what it is. You've chosen that for your family, even if I could never do that to my own. I can't imagine denying my parents the right to know their grandson, or my girls the right to know their brother. I can't imagine allowing my son to be kept hidden and a secret, like he's shameful.  He is in a way I guess....fatherless on his paperwork, and conceived in the midst of an affair.

I'm thankful I have him. I'm thankful my family will have unfettered access to him. I'm thankful you've stood by me and given me a way to keep him. I'm already more proud of him, and love him deeper than I could have ever imagined. While I dread the hard questions I'll have to answer as he ages...to include likely lying to him about his own father's name..he is a source of immense joy to me and I wouldn't change this surprise in my life for anything. I'm a practiced single mom...if things end up as I suspect they might, I know he, the girls and I will make it through ok somehow.

I suppose this all sounds rather cynical. That's because you're home with your wife right now. I haven't seen your face in nearly a week, or heard your voice in the same amount of time. The communication has once again disappeared into a vacuum for us...at a time when I need it the most. Of course, just as in Dec you're promising me that you'll 'do your best' not to fuck your wife while you're home. I believed you in Dec that you didn't....not so sure I believe you this time around. It's suspect. It's easy to tell me you haven't simply to keep me placated. I don't know if you'll really tell me of a slip up since you know how that affects me. Besides...how would I ever know the truth. Not like she will tell me. I hope you're actually being good...not that I have any right at all to ask for that.

Once again....I fucking hate this. As I'm venting I'm finding myself becoming increasingly angry at the scenario as it stands in this moment. God what I wouldn't give to disappear in an alcohol and pill induced coma until the end of the month...

Hell: Day 1

I feel like I'm dying.  A slow death, where I'm slowly sinking below the dark waters.  I can't breathe.  Already I'm struggling to keep my head above the surface.  The water is always something that provided comfort for me, now its going to be my demise, and I know it and realize there is nothing I can do to prevent it.  My heart is drowning in its own tears, a much more powerful death  Truly bringing about its own destruction through its own actions, and unable to stop.  It won't get any easier not as long as you continue this charade with her.  It will only get tougher.  I will only suffer more.  I will only learn to hide my pain (thus appear stronger) more effectively to prevent you from suffering with me.  I must protect you from what it is I feel, from what your actions with her are doing to me, costing me.....the destruction its ravaging on my soul.

I'm tucking in now, my Nyquil and Valium have kicked in and God willing there will be no dreams tonight.  For good measure I've got my vodka on hand for a quick swallow before closing my eyes.  You aren't here, or there, or anywhere to save me now from my own darkest fears.  For the next two weeks, I'm utterly alone. 

Visit: Day 2

You're here.  I haven't had the opportunity to write, which has been absolutely perfect by me.  Couldn't ask for a better excuse to find a lack of time to put virtual pen to paper.  However, you're here and I'm now on this fucking thing writing.  Clearly there has to be a reason for it, and of course there is.  At this moment you're sitting on the floor, Koa dog besides you, within feet of my bed.  You're typing a letter to your ex.  I should be happy I know.  You're doing what needs to be done to keep your cover up, and protect this terribly fragile relationship we have.  In fact, I'm assisting you in the letter, making sure your timeline, dates and departure times (fabricated of course) are correct.  Once again, my heart is being destroyed, and I have to somehow find a way to hide 99% of what this does to me from my eyes.  You read me like a book, a trait I love...a trait that means the world to me - it also means I can't hide shit from you.  You can't know, not right now, what this is like for me.  What would it matter anyway?  There are two outcomes....you leaving, or nothing at all being different....aside from perhaps you hiding more from me than you already do.  Neither of those outcomes are acceptable, so instead I just play the stoic role.  Yay for fucking me.

I don't even feel like I can vent properly, I know if I get too wrapped up in this you'll know.  As it is you just called me out on my blogging, so for now I'm going to put this on pause and pick it up in a short while. 

Deployment: Day 58

How the fuck can you do this to me?  Its nothing new, I've down the rules since the beginning.  I knew you'd be fucking her, making love to her...whatever it is you feel driven to do, since we started this.  I fucking hate it.  How can you tell me you love me more than I'll ever know?  That you hate hurting me?  That you want to take care of me forever?  How can you tell me that you agree with me....that you've made the decision...just can't 'voice it yet'...that you've chosen me??  How can you do all of that and still leave me in 2 weeks to slide back into her arms?!  Why the fuck do you have to do this???  Why can't you let things simmer down between you, why can't you let things change?  Why can't you stop my torment?  Why must you rip my heart out and destroy it over and over again??  And saying that I have a choice...that I needn't do anything I don't want to do is bullshit and you know it!  I fucking love you!!!  I won't leave you...I'll let you fucking destroy me, over and over and over again...until my heart is nothing but a fucking bloody stain on the rug.  I'll do it because you're all I want, you're what I need in your life....you are ALL I need to be happy.  Why can't I be enough for you?  What am I fucking missing to make you stop killing me with her?  What more do I have to be to be enough???

Deployment: Day 26

So here we are, just about at the half-way point to your coming back home for r&r, and I'm not sure exactly how I feel about it.  I know that I desperately want you here.  I cannot, absolutely cannot wait for you to get home.  To my home.  To spend time with me.  I also can't wait for the relief that comes with knowing, even if only for a short while, you're safe.  I know I don't talk about it a lot...but I'm so scared for you over there.  It doesn't do any good to moan and groan about it.  You're doing what you have to do, and you're no stranger to being in that environment.  I also know that this is voluntary, so I really can't bemoan it too much, since honestly, you could come home at any time.  However, I still worry about you, I love you...and I can't begin to imagine what horror it would be to get that email telling me you are hurt or worse. 

As much as I love all of that.  The thought of having you safe, of having you in my arms, of being able to do nothing more than lie there, look at you...touch your face and kiss your lips the moment the desire strikes me...is wonderful.  It comes with the knowledge of knowing that once again I'll have to endure you going home to your ex.  Making love to her.  Telling her you love her.  Saying things, that I've come to desire only be said to me.  Things that I hate that you could even imagine saying or doing to another woman....forget about actually doing them.  I hate the endless nightmares that I know will haunt me whether or not my eyes are closed...the sleep that will be nothing short than torture even with the mind dulling alcohol or drugs.  I know that for the 16 days I'll be apart from you I'll manage it.  I'll brave the goodbye, I'll endure the separation...I'll drink my way through what you do with her.  I just hate knowing now, what it will be like...and that its coming...there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I wish somehow I could make you understand the pain.  That there were nights in September that I almost thought of death as a release.  No, I'm not suicidal my love.  Never that.  But, in those dark moments when the images...the sounds of you with her wouldn't leave even when I was awake....I could envy complete darkness, the inability to feel.  I tore down my walls to love you fully.  To love you completely.  To lose myself in you.  Lose myself I have.  Never have I loved like this, trusted like this...never have I been this vulnerable.  This removal of protection, this absence of any sort of stone around me....its left me open to being wounded beyond anything I imagined possible before.  There can be no greater pain than loving another human being completely...mind, body and soul.  To know that you'd give up everything for that person, nothing you wouldn't do.  And then to watch that person walk away, and have to dream every night what comfort they take from the other woman he loves.  Yes, there are times where death seems not so painful as this.  Which is why, I may never let you see the true depth of my despair at what it is you're doing.  I could never stand by and watch you suffer the way I am...and I know you would if you knew what it was I had to endure to give you what you need.

Today I saw a collage of videos showing various proposals.  Some were as hilarious as they were creative.  An elephant flipping a sign at a wildlife park to propose the trainer's girlfriend in the crowd, a woman receiving a ring on a ferris wheel overlooking the Eiffel Tower, a man and woman in a play acting as bride and groom when he drops on his knee for a real proposal.  Then there was one I saw that was amusing...mostly because it reminded me of us.  I believe it may have been Christmas, and he was proposing with a wrapped ring.  When she lept into his arms, it became apparent that she was wearing bright red footed pjs.  Totally could picture myself in that moment, and I'll have to remember at some point (likely this evening) to remind you not to propose to me while I'm still adorned in footed pjs of one fashion or another. 

Right now I'm soaking in the tub...waiting for time to pass a little more quickly so that I can get in a quick chat with you after your breakfast and you start your day.  I'm excited about this evening (your time) Skype session.  For the first time since you've been in BAF there should be no interruptions, no one in the house, and I'm thrilled at having you all to myself.  Hopefully it will be as wonderful a chat as it was yesterday.  For now I need to wrap this up, get myself together....and watch time tick away until our encounter.

I love you madly, now and forever...hopefully one day...and soon all the ugliness of this will go away forever.