While glancing back through 2015 posts, something else popped out at me and that was the fact that early on I still obsessed about the sex my husband had with the other woman. And even after I fully metabolized how unimportant those sex acts were in the scheme of things, I still focused on being able to tell the other woman my side of the story. I wanted to be vindicated. I wanted her to know just how great a fucking wife and partner I am and have been to my husband. I wanted her to feel like shit about what she had done and I wanted her to know how totally she was duped by an addict seeking his drug. As explained in post after post… that was never going to happen. I was never going to be vindicated in that way. I know I am a fucking awesome wife and partner. In 2015, she was denied access to Blue Eyes in every single way. No texting, no emailing, no phone calls, no trips, no appearances on airplanes. Nothing. And that is how it should have always been and how it will be going forward. Forever.
Then, as time progressed, I felt the need to validate to myself and to readers and commenters who seemed to be stuck on the fact that there was no way my husband could spend eight years pursuing this woman and not have feelings for her. Truth is, when I was traumatized and broken, it was one of the most confusing aspects of this whole fucking mess. What the freaking fuck??? I am picturing this woman and everything she is and everything she did to keep my husband coming back for more sex and it still fucking blows my 52 year old mind. Blows it. I am still confused. I just asked my husband, again, last week, for the 100th time, “how in the hell did you rationalize going back to THAT woman?” The answer is and will always be… “I don’t know. I am an addict.” So when it came time for the rational me to explain why this woman meant nothing but free sick dirty sex to my husband, it wasn’t difficult. Sure it was difficult going back through “their” story, but it was not difficult reaching my conclusion. I know she didn’t mean anything. He turned her away time and time and time again. She was so desperate that every time he came crawling back, his contact happening so sparsely it seems like a joke, she gave him that free sick dirty sex because that is all she had to give. He covered up his secret and embarrassing sex life with a level of skill I didn’t think possible. I was never ever ever going to find out.
In the end, 2015 did include many posts that somehow included the other woman. I needed to get her out of my system. It is now a new year. In roughly 24 hours, it will have been two years since the phone call that brought my life crashing down around me. Two years ago tomorrow marks the day I found out that there was a sick and hateful human being who wanted to take me down. She wanted me to suffer, and suffer I have. The thing is though, most of my suffering was not because of her. I suffered because my husband lied and betrayed me. It could have been anyone. She is not special or important. Although I know she will never be fully exorcised from the deep recesses of my mind… that phone call can never be fully erased, I don’t care anymore.
As Blue Eyes and I move further forward into 2016 and embark on his third year of recovery from sex addiction, I am happy to report that I no longer care whether that woman hears my side of the story. My story is about moving forward. My story is about mastering those last trickles of trauma. My story is about owning my life and being productive and vibrant as a functional human being. My story is about love and kindness and compassion, and it always has been.