I thought I saw her the other day when I was walking during my lunch break. Because my eyesight is so bad I had to double take, more like quintuple-take, and realised that no, it wasn't her. It was a middle-aged woman with the same frumpy build and face shape, small beady eyes, rosy cheeks.
More notable was, however, the feelings that coursed through me in the split seconds when I thought it was her. Fear, Shame, Disgust, Hatred, Panic, Sadness, Intensity. Capitol letter to all of them because in my body they are real feelings with their own entitlement to be alive in my mind. My first instinct was to freeze, and I wanted to turn around and run very fast and far away. At the same time I wanted to keep marchng forward, slap her rounded face, cry, and tell her what an awful person she is, and how much she has hurt me, and ruined me, and broken so much about me.
It makes me angry that I feel ashamed and stupid because HE cheated on ME. It doesnt make sense but I am deeply embarrassed. Maybe it's because I stayed with him, after two seperate incidences of him cheating. I am an idiot. I haven't told anyone. I just hate hate hate hate how much it still destroys me to this very day, and how he seems to be over it because his therapy was in confessing to me. Where is my goddamned therapy? In crying myself to sleep every week after a bad day? In the moments that the occasion could so easily be slipped into conversation to prove a point, but never happens? I hate it, I hate myself, I hate my lack of confidence and my uncertainty in my own decisions of staying with him.
But I love him. I LOVE him, and I want to marry him one day, and stay in love, and be happy, the proper way, and I want to believe everything he tells me, about how deeply sorry he is, how he is a changed man, how he realised how stupid decisions like that could ruin what really matters the most to him. Why did he have to fucking do it, that's what I want to know. God, shit, it hurts so much, in the tiniest of ways, he most unsuspeting of moments, the innocent jokes or comments...
The hurt hasn't gone away, or even faded really, and I am starting to believe that it will probably be this way forever. For as long as I am with him, at least. It has been almost 18 months since it happened, and a whole year since I found out. I hate her so much. I hate the person he was when he was with her that night. I hate him beyond words. I hate the feelings and emotions. I haven't eaten a chicken ceaser wrap in about a year, we were eating these when he confessed. He made it seem so hard on himself too, stopped midway and went to throw up because of "guilt", or maybe it was just nerves at confessing. I hate these memories. I hate that I am still so filled with hate, but I honestly don't know how to even ever let go. It consumes me, whenever I am reminded of it. The whole incident, the details, the way he wasn't so drunk that he couldn't find a condom, or get home, or message me afterwards. Fuck him.
My only peace of mind comes from the secret random spot checks I have done on his phone, facebook, etc. I have found nothing, he seems to be practicing what he preaches in terms of honesty and loyalty now. I am still unsure though. the only reason I am still with him is because I am deeply and consumedly obsessively in absolute love with him. Does that make me stupid? I dont even know. I am exhausted writing about all of this. It is all just a mess. My mind is just wrecked and I am sick of reasoning everything out in my head.
I hate feeling like this, but letting go of him would mean letting go of everything great we have. More than great, amazing, blissful, antural, the real kind of happy I need in my life. Why do we love the ones who hurt us the most? Can he really love me 100% for the rest of our time? I don't know anything about following the heart. Logic just screws everything into a mixed up palette of shame, and opinions, and thoughts, and negativity. Well. We get through it, if we can.
I still love him with everything I've got, and probably always will.
