Editor’s Note: This personal story is a diary of an affair. It’s one woman’s recount of the emotions and events she endured as she coped with her husband’s deception, and was submitted to us anonymously. This diary will be published in a series of articles. The following is part three. Click here for part two.

Counseling

We went last night. As to be expected, I left angrier than I went in. All of the things I wished not to think of for the week reappeared.

This morning he left to go to the gym at 5:30. I read his email and found a receipt for some very expensive clothes he bought himself. This brought on a whole other feeling inside. The fact that he does not allow me to spend money unless he delegates it, yet he can go spend all he wants without ever telling me.

When he got home it started. The finger pointing and fighting. He felt it stemmed from the counseling session and refuses to go again. I’m sure that is just him being a big baby. Men hate being placed under the heat lamp because, naturally, it burns like hell.

I can’t stand fighting with him. I can’t stand that he thinks this will all just blow away with the next gust of wind and no one will ever know that it was him who littered. That life is normal and he ‘messed up’.

When I asked my two-year old child why he threw beads all over the living room or scribbled on his door with permanent marker his reply was, “I don’t know.” This is normal for a young child who really doesn’t understand consequences.

When I ask my husband why he had an affair; why he admitted that it was more than physical, that it was emotional; why he was so deceptive, he can only say “I don’t know.” Is it that an educated man with thirty-five years life experience still has the mind of a two-year old who cannot comprehend action/consequence? Is it?

He also cannot comprehend action/reaction and cause/effect. He wants me to dance around and thank the world for giving me a man who wants to be with me, a man who did not abandon me, a man who is willing to love me after he tasted the sweet fruit of freedom.

He doesn’t get it. He just doesn’t get it.

Unseen Ledge

We have all experienced that unseen ledge. The step that was placed in front of us only moments before we step down. Recovery can be awkward, yet casual. Everyone noticed, but they tend not to mention the unforeseen action.

Why is that?

Why is it hard to warn someone about that ledge? The outcome differs greatly depending on how well we brace ourselves. A slight trip, stumble, or even a bumbling face plant right there on the cement.

There are those people who warn you. It is always rather nonchalant. A quiet ‘watch your step,’ as though they have been training for years for those moments.

I’ll never forget a time when I went to visit my friend. At eight months pregnant, she walked me out to my car as I was leaving. Her husband had his truck parked in the driveway with a trailer attached. The trailer was being held in place by a two-by-four, which stuck out in our walking path. I stepped over the board and she followed close behind. Having seen the board, I assumed she knew it was there, too.

She did not. She tripped over it, stumbling forward, belly and all. The outcome was a minor toe stub. Recovered from instantaneously. I apologized after and we kept walking.

What could have been was far worse than what was. But, why couldn’t I warn her? Why did I withhold that information? She could have easily fallen right on her belly.

Everything in our lives is strategically placed for purpose of getting our attention. It is whether we mind it any attention at all. That is when our lives change.