Journal Entry: May 22, 2014

I’m having a shitty evening. On our way to dinner, my mobile phone was ringing in my purse. I dug it out and there she was, the whore, calling me again. Honestly, I know this woman was needy and empty and my husband pursued sex with her and if it wasn’t for the fact that she is stalking me and blames me, I wouldn’t call her names. Unfortunately, this is my only venue for getting some of the frustration out, so out come the derogatory terms. I am actually not normally a name caller. This time she had not even bothered to block her number. My husband had changed out his mobile weeks ago, but I was holding out hope that she would give up and I could keep my number. It is difficult enough trying to get past all this without her calling me all the time.

I recognized her mobile phone number right away. Since she hadn’t blocked her call, the phone app had not picked it up. The great thing about the app, is that it captures the blocked calls so you don’t actually even know they happened unless you go look at the log. I have gotten pretty good at not looking at the log. This time, either she had forgotten to block it, or she was just getting bolder and didn’t care anymore. She’s probably pissed she can’t get through to my husband’s number any more, or the home phone as we have blocked her actual numbers and we no longer accept blocked calls. A piece of me really wanted to answer the phone and tell her to fuck off. Tell her my husband had lied to her for years. That he wasn’t her lonely and romantic prince charming unhappily married to an evil, ice queen. That he was never going to sweep her off her feet, and he certainly wasn’t in love with her. I looked over at my husband and showed him my phone, he freaked a little and then reminded me not to answer. It would only encourage the stalking bitch. I immediately blocked her number from my mobile, but dinner was ruined, and my mostly happy day was ruined.

I wish I could get her out of my mind, but disclosures have been trickling in since dday, back in January, she has been calling multiple times per week, and I have been unable to get her out of my life. I want to feel like I know everything I need to know about their sick relationship and then I will be able to stop thinking about it. No matter how many times I tell my husband that I will know when I have enough information, if he would just fucking stop holding back information, he never volunteers information, ever, I would maybe feel like he was starting to be truthful in our marriage. If I ask him a question, he usually answers it with as little detail as possible. There was 15 years of cheating, 8 years with this horrible woman. That’s a lot of betrayal. If I ask him the same question more than once, sometimes I get different answers. Over the past few months, I have asked so many questions and in so many different ways, that I feel pretty sure I have most of his story. When I get different answers from him, he usually just blows it off and says he has tried to block it all out and he really doesn’t remember. Which is, of course, bullshit. Most likely he lied the first time around to try and protect himself from the horrors of his own reality and then at some point in the questioning he told part of the truth, either by accident, or sheer exhaustion. Once I got a glimmer of what I deemed the truth, I dug deeper and deeper until I felt like I actually had the whole truth, or at least enough of it to satisfy me. Here is an example of how one of these fact-finding missions transpired:

In January, early on, I asked him if he had ever been on what he would call a date with her in our hometown. I asked if they had ever been to lunch, or dinner, or a movie, or a play, or a sporting event, or a poetry reading, or whatever (remember I have to be the one who asks the right question, and include every possible scenario or the answer will just be a flat, no and sometimes even if I do ask the right questions, the answer is still no. He is a fucking liar). He told me numerous times, no. That there was no way he was going to risk being seen with her in public in the city where we live. Then, I remembered once when we were at a hotel celebrating a wedding anniversary, we decided to watch a pay per view movie. He wanted to watch Frost/Nixon. Usually it takes us a while to choose a movie we both want to watch, but this time, he was set on Frost/Nixon. I thought it strange but said okay. I was kind of bored with the movie but he kept drawing me back in with facts and talking through the movie and I remember feeling like he had already seen it. I asked if he had already seen it, and if so, why did he want to watch it again? He said, no, he had not seen it. But I felt like he was lying. This was years before I knew he had had affairs. The whole thing was kind of confusing. I asked if maybe he had seen it or part of it on a plane, he was adamant, so I let it go. So, a couple months ago when I was quizzing him about things he had done with her, things that did not include their genitals, that is, I asked if they had ever been to a movie together and he said, no. But I could tell he was lying, so I asked specifically about Frost/Nixon. We watch lots and lots of movies together in the span of say, a year, so not sure why I was so stuck on that feeling I had about Frost/Nixon, what a benign movie, right? So finally, after me asking enough times, he finally told me, yes, he had been to see Frost/Nixon with the whore. He told me they had seen it together in Tokyo. There is a hotel I booked him at that has a mall with a movie theater in the building attached to the hotel. That is where he said they had seen the movie. I honestly just could not understand why he kept lying about it? Why lie about a movie date when you have had sex with the woman close to 200 times? The lying is so infuriating. Then, about a month later, I was asking him again if he had been anywhere with her here in our hometown. I instinctively knew he was lying and I really wanted to know what the exposure was. Where had they been, what had they done. After 30 years with this man, I felt I deserved the truth. Finally, after hysterically crying and yelling at him that I knew he was holding back, he admitted to taking her to lunch early on in their “relationship” at a restaurant near her house. She insisted he take her out in public or she was going to call me. So he did. He then admitted that early on, she had insisted that he meet her for drinks at the restaurant bar in our old office building. So he did. Then, he finally fucking admitted that he had seen Frost/Nixon with her here in our hometown, not in Tokyo. He had seen the movie with her while I was out of town. She had insisted they see it at the movie theater that is IN THE VERY SAME BUILDING IN WHICH WE HAVE OUR BUSINESS. I was beginning to see a pattern. Apparently blackmailing him into being in public with her in the buildings where we work together every day was some kind of sick manipulation tool. I asked why it had taken him months to tell the truth. He said it was because he was so humiliated that she had succeeded at blackmailing him into taking her places where I have been with him. Why can he just not get the fact that the worst part of it all, is that he is STILL LYING. He could have fucked her in the middle of the movie theater in front of 100 people, and the worst part STILL would have been the lying, not the act. After all this time (they saw the movie in 2009) he still feels the need to lie about it. It makes me want to scream and run away, and most of the time I do scream. I scream and cry and sometimes I harm myself to release the pain. But that hasn’t happened for a quite a while.

Of course I will never have the whole story because I, frankly, do not know all the questions to ask. And why do I torture myself in this way anyway, you might be asking? Because I do not feel like I can move forward with our marriage if I do not know the truth about our marriage and everything my husband has done to try and destroy it.

So now, today, I think I am finally ready to admit I have enough in my box that I can now file it away for good. Maybe if I purge everything I know about this last and most destructive acting out partner, call my fact-finding mission done, once and for all, a weight will lift. It would be helpful if I felt like I never had to go back and open that box back up, but something tells me I will be sneaking an unhealthy peak into this box on my worst of days. Those dark days are becoming less frequent, hopefully some day they will disappear.

Something tells me I may have to file away my mobile phone number in that box as well, because the bitch just doesn’t seem to want to back off.