This will be the story of the infidelity part of my blog title. This was the worst and darkest time in my short little life. My husband had an affair...there I said it.
Throughout my whole life I always swore up and down that I would never stay married to someone who cheated on me. Well I've been cheated on and I'm still married. The thing I worry about with this post is demonizing my husband. He's not a bad man, just made bad choices. Bad choices happen to the best of us.
Last year he started reconnecting with people on Face.book, just like everyone else in the world. He reconnected with a girl he went to high school with and had treated very badly at one point. He felt bad for what he had done to her for the longest time. When they reconnected on Face.book he thought it would be a great time to apologize for mistreating her. Well the apology led to forgiveness and stupidity.
To start with (at this time) our marriage wasn't in a great place to begin with. I'm not sure what went wrong or when it went wrong, but we had stopped talking and I was miserable. I was living out in Utah (away from my family) and hated my job. His kids and ex-wife were giving us grief and it was just a bad time all around. Yes, if you do the math we were trying to get pregnant at the time. I know, I know it all sounds so horrible.
I confronted him, I had my suspicion, he denied it. I called the girl. She told me the truth. Bubba and I had the worst fight in the history of fights. We yelled and screamed and threatened...ok, well I yelled and screamed and threatened. I was hurt and pissed and crying. I felt like my world was falling apart. I stayed away from Bubba and from Church. I went to work and went home. The hate was consuming me. I had to go to confession. Dammit! So I went and I have never been more mad at everyone and at God for letting this happen. For watching my marriage crumble and not stopping it. I know it was not His fault, but I was mad and I didn't know what to do. After confession, I felt better, but not good enough. I wanted it to be my end all cure all and it wasn't. I went to the doctor and for the first time in my life I was put on anti-depressants.
Two months later, I told my father. I was ready to leave Bubba and I needed a place to stay. I. Was. Coming. Home. He said OK. I quit my job and I went home (our home). I told my Bubba it was over, I was done, I couldn't do it anymore. He was shocked and scared. He knew I was serious and he knew he was losing me. I told him everything. And for the first time we finally talked.
Longer story short, he moved to Florida with me. My dad had a "chat" with Bubba and we started our road to recovery. I am happy and he is happy. I know I'm not the only person on God's earth to go through this, but sometimes it feels like it.
Please don't run away screaming from my blog. I know I've thrown a lot of info out there for the first two posts. God Bless.