So, enough about sex addiction… just kidding. What would my life be like without sex addiction? I wouldn’t even have this freakin’ blog.
We had an amazing anniversary trip to the coast last weekend. It was relaxing and invigorating and on the morning after our anniversary, we even went into our new beach house great room and opened the big, huge slider and sat out on our very own deck looking out to the mighty Pacific Ocean as if we actually have a beach house, because we almost do. And then I turned around to see a strange man standing in our “bedroom,” which kind of startled me. There may be huge lockable windows on the beach side, but there is no front door or garage door and so people can just walk on in (well, they do have to climb a ladder) and stroll through our house. Ha. Once the fancy stuff is in, like sinks and toilets, they’re going to have to do something about that riff raff and get some doors on! Just kidding, but seriously. Our house is located in a very quaint and friendly little beach town and so far most of the neighbors seem wonderful.
Did I ever mention how not wonderful our next door neighbors are though? No? Well, long long story short, they are Californians! I KNOW!!! Just kidding, BE is from California (well, okay, I realize that is not a great example). Anyway, I have never met the wife, but the first time we met the husband, a rather large and imposing man, he was complaining about our contractor. Of course. The weird part though was that he was totally ignoring me, not even acknowledging my presence. At one point I said something, and he turned and looked at me and said, “who are you?” I said I am his wife. He looked at Blue Eyes and back at me and said, very matter of factly… “I thought he was gay???” It took both me and Blue Eyes by surprise. Truthfully the guy seems like kind of a bully, so I thought he was trying to disarm us. Who knows, the guy is a weirdo. My response was, “well, Blue Eyes has a lot of secrets, but I don’t think that is one of them.” The guy actually is a real asshole, but thankfully they don’t spend much time at their big old beach house next door.
So, we introduced ourselves to the guy roaming through our house and he seemed embarrassed that he was talking to the real owners and he apologized for just walking on in. I said, well, the whole front side of the house is wide open with no signs saying you can’t come in, so we expect people to come in. Now is the time to see it if you want to because soon there will be doors and then we won’t take kindly to trying to leisurely relax on our deck while some strange neighbor rummages through our bedroom. I actually didn’t say that last part, but I think he got the message anyway.
After relaxing on our deck and taking a long walk down the beach and back around through our soon to be “new” neighborhood, we took a drive down the coast in Blue Eyes’ convertible. What a lovely drive it was. We have some funky beach towns on the Oregon Coast, but the coastline is take your breath away gorgeous. We stopped in for a late lunch and Blue Eyes got kind of teary eyed and said he was having a really wonderful time and he was so grateful I was in his life and had agreed to continue to travel this journey with him. Looking at him and knowing he was feeling real, true emotion, hit me hard, but not in a calming, content, satisfied way. It hit me in an empty way. To that point on that day I had already realized it was the three year anniversary of the last day he begged to see her for sex. Just hours after celebrating our 24th anniversary, he met her at a coffee shop, strolled the nearby neighborhood where she had recently purchased a rundown apartment building with money she inherited from her sister who had passed a couple years prior. He kissed her on the street outside that apartment and she agreed to a quickie at her house. To that point though, on the day after our 27th wedding anniversary, I hadn’t let that day come very far into my conscious thoughts. Then when I saw Blue Eyes being grateful for me and being thankful, I realized that the pain he feels will never equal the pain I felt and still feel when I think about the betrayal. It is a gut wrenching anxiety ridden pain coupled with shortened breath and nausea and that is just the physical side of things. The mental anguish is far worse. But I have mastered this pain. Time and time again, I have mastered this pain.
As just a few tear drops rolled down my cheeks, I reiterated the enormity of the pain he caused with the choices he made. It wasn’t a long conversation. When we left the restaurant, I did not take the tears with me. I said good-bye to those old feelings and rejoined the present. I didn’t think about his betrayal, or his recovery, or my pain again that night or for the rest of our time away.
I don’t want him to feel shame, I want him to feel compassion for me as a human being that he wronged. He will never know how difficult this is, or how this feels. He will never know.