This is so, so difficult to write . . . despite everything that has happened over the past five months . . . writing this still feels like another further calamity. BUT, no matter how many times I’d told myself that things would slowly return to normal, one upset after another seems to have followed me week after week.
I know from a number of the emails I’ve received over the past two months, that many of you have read-between-the-lines and have realised the loss that our family has been through since the end of last year. That of course has no import here, other than the effect it had on my energy and motivation. But two much more recent events has changed, I think possibly for the foreseeable future, my own feelings about the lifestyle and relationships that I have held so dear for the past decade or more.
Firstly, I had to end my relationship with D. We’d talked a lot and met on a number of occasions during the months when I’d been unable to continue my “social lifestyle”. We would meet for coffee occasionally on a Sunday, had several meals together, but no other “contact” apart from goodbye kisses and hugs in the car. But his telephone calls became more and more frequent. Firstly in the mornings on my way to work (almost every morning!) and then progressed to sometimes twice a day. Sometimes when I was still at the office, sometimes later in the evening when I was home trying to cook the evening meal or just unwind with J on the sofa watching the 10 o’clock news. I started putting my phone on voicemail, and not returning his calls. But neither seemed to work.
Eventually, I agreed to J’s advice that I would have to be “cruel to be kind” and I had to tell him we couldn’t carry on. That I needed more time and space, and that I felt my life, and outlook, had suddenly changed and that I couldn’t be that person anymore. It was terribly difficult and upsetting to say these things, and to hear his responses and assertions. But . . .
I had also been talking a lot with S on the phone as well, and after my evening with him of just a few weeks ago, I felt almost like a new woman. I enjoyed the excitement and the thrill, and the arousal and the empowerment. And my evenings with J, immediately after that meeting, were just like they had always been . . . wonderful and passionate and loving.
Then, a week later, my phone rang. It was S’s number on the display. He never rang me at this time of night, but stupidly I answered. It was his wife!
Over the years he’d always said his wife “never, ever looked at his phone” and that she showed as little interest in his working hours and occasional “late nights at work” as she did for his personal emotional and physical well-being. They virtually never touched, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed and they hadn’t been “intimate” in years. As our affair progressed over the years we’d always been discrete and careful and cautious about everything we did and everything we’d arrange. Texts were few and far between and always in a sort of code. He’d always delete his calls list and messages immediately. We’d never phone one another unless it was during my commute to work hour, or at a pre-arranged time.
But, especially over the past few years, I suppose we both became lazy. Of course I never had to hide my calls, or anything about my times with S from J. He’d known everything from the very beginning, every text, every phone call . . . every meeting. But still, because of my children, I’d always deleted my messages, and phone numbers were given discrete, nonsense, names in my contacts list.
But she’d picked up his phone, found lots of my texts that he “saved”. As we’d become more lazy, we’d also dropped all pretense at code-speak. We’d even begun to enjoy naughty-messaging and I enjoyed sharing them with J !!! But, I’d always still delete them, if not straight away, at least after a few days. S hadn’t!!!
God knows why she went through his phone. But she stormed straight into him, screaming and yelling in front of two of his children . . . and then locked herself in the bathroom . . . with his phone . . . and called me!
It is impossible to describe how I felt. I’m shaking again as I type this, thinking how upsetting and devastating a feeling it was. I couldn’t think of all the things he’d told me about her, I couldn’t settle my thoughts and compose myself and remember all the times that I’d been amazed how she treated him in company when we’d used to socialise at school gatherings and sports events. I couldn’t think of any words to say, any defence, any excuse . . . not even any response. I hung up, burst into tears and ran into the next room looking for J.
Suddenly, all those times when J and I had discussed how wonderful our own marriage was, how my affairs weren’t hurting anybody, how my evenings with S had made him a happier and more contented person, how our affair was actually saving his marriage,all those thoughts were gong. Now, and in an instant, all those justifications and statements . . . and pride, in our lifestyle . . . seemed to just disappear.
She called our house number. J answered. She started blurting out to him, (S had obviously not told her about our own relationship, or perhaps hadn’t had time). J was simply marvellous. He told her she needed to slow down, to take some time to just stop and think about the situation. I heard him telling her she needed to talk to S, to think of their children and all of their family and all of the things they built and achieved in their marriage. I was a blubbering wreck . . . J was a telephone counsellor. She hung up.
That was last week. I’ve spoken with S several times. He and J met on Saturday afternoon. We both have talked about little else. At this point in time I can’t stop feeling that I am responsible for everything he and his children are going through. Despite everything that J can say, despite it all making practical and rational sense, I can’t stop feeling a huge and horrible ache in my stomach. And that makes three huge aches in my stomach in as many months.
And, at the moment, with that aching I feel that nothing will ever be quite the same.
I want to thank everyone that has emailed and commented over these past years. I do feel that I have (almost) met, and corresponded with, some wonderful people from all over the world. I have enjoyed sharing with you, and I have enjoyed receiving the thoughts you have shared with me.
I wish you all the very, very best for the future . . . with much love always – Edith
