So, I know it has been a long time. This summer was hard for me off and on. It was hard, to be honest, for both of us. Me-dealing with hurt and fear. Him-dealing with guilt and shame.
June 5th, 2009 was the day that I found out about his affair in the first place. That's the beginning of this blog. I was a little nervous about it as I felt June approach this year. But we were doing well so I tried to be positive. And I was. Until a few days later when I realized I went to the same places I went a year ago on that Friday. (Of course, since this is a year later, the day that was a Friday last year is a Saturday this year, you know what I mean...) I hadn't even meant to do it. You see, when Beloved told me about it that awful night we had gone to dinner (I had arranged for a sitter so we could go out and--I thought--reconnect, and maybe he'd tell me what had been bothering him. I had no idea that it was what it was) outside the mall and then, in the car, after dinner, he told me everything. And I said (very calmly, since I didn't cry at that time) I needed to use the bathroom, so we drove to Target, across the way, so I could use the bathroom. I remember walking into that bathroom as quickly as I could, but still retain some sense of calm. Once inside I couldn't hold it in anymore and started to cry. I called my bff 'Gretchen' and then my big sis Sam. I cried and cried. And it was close to closing time, so when some worker came in to check the bathroom she hugged me and held me for just a little while. I don't even remember what she looked like, but I am so thankful for a kind stranger that day.
Anyway, about this year (HELLO! Sorry about the sidetrack, there!). My daughters S and E wanted to have a girl's night out. I thought that was a great idea and so we went out. Guess where they wanted to go? To eat at the mall and then to Target. Weird, huh? And we were there almost to closing that night, too.
I thought about it later, once I realized it, and I thought it might have been a good thing. Maybe I needed to go see if there are any ghosts of the past there, you know? And I felt o.k.
But the next day I did not. That is to say, on Saturday morning I woke up and I felt sick. And my head hurt. And I felt weird because I felt discontented but didn't know why, because Beloved and I had been so very connected of late. All morning it bothered me. I kept wondering why I felt like this. And then I remembered something I had read a few months back. Something about our body's cellular memory. That sometimes we wake up feeling a certain way that doesn't make sense, but that it is because on the same day in our past we felt that way and our cells remember it and react to it. Weird, huh?
Then July came. And I went away for work (I started with a direct-selling business--NEVER thought I'd do that, but I fell in love with the product and couldn't resist) and I was a mess for the week leading up to it. Why? Because I was going to the exact same place he had gone to be with her on the 25th of July. The story is here, if you remember. See, in that post I say "L.A.", but in reality it was Newport Beach. And where did I find myself headed on the 15th of July? Newport Beach. Now, I realize that the 15th is 10 days away from the 25th. But for me it was terribly difficult and emotional. I was so filled with anger and hurt and, just, so many emotions, that I couldn't prepare for the trip. Beloved had to help me pack, had to talk me into going, remind me of why I was going in the first place, and that I would have my wonderful BFF and her family and my sis along with me, that it would be fun.
So I went. And it was fun. And it was good. And, though there were times when I felt like crying, it was great to have a reason to go out there and face those feelings, but have another purpose into which I could focus my energy.
And when I returned home he was a mess.
He couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about how I had felt in leaving and telling himself I would return to tell him I was sick of feeling like this, that I'd tell him he had to go.
He does this to himself a lot. And to be honest, there was one time, around Thanksgiving that I truly felt like God had better give me a reason to stay because I felt like I was finished with it all. But after that, when things are hard--and they do get hard. SO so hard. When things are hard I think about what a dear friend said to me: She said, "Gigi. What do you know for sure?" And I 'hem'ed and I 'haw'ed (I know that isn't spelled right, sorry!) and she reminded me of what I said when Beloved was gone. And that Heavenly Father told me to wait. And that Heavenly Father brought Beloved home. And that Heavenly Father knows waayy more than I do. And that I trust Him. So when things get hard, I remember that. And it helps me to keep things in perspective.
And my birthday came. And that day last year was miserable. Miserable: (adj) wretchedly unhappy. Don't get me wrong, I was with BFF in Utah and loved being near my neices and nephews whom I adore. But I had a foolish, ridiculously romantic notion that he would wake up and come back to me, call me or show up at BFF's home. I blush to write that. No, more than blush. Though I feel my cheeks heating up as I type. I am embarrassed and humiliated that I hoped for that. But it's the truth. I did. And I was miserable all day because I knew it wasn't going to happen, and couldn't keep myself from hoping that it would. I know. It's so stupid.
So this year I felt so sad all day. Like I was mourning--something. My romantic notion? My foolishness? I don't know. I tried not to let it show. I did things--don't ask me what, I can't remember now--to keep us all busy. Us all, being the kids and myself, since Beloved had to work that day, but had a 3 day weekend after it, so I didn't mind. And it allowed me the privacy that I wanted. Perhaps I was a little indulgent.
Then August came. And it was our anniversary. You remember, the infamous anniversary post and comments, don't you? Poor Red. Love ya, Red! No hard feelings, right?! Huh? And this day was hard for me. Because I remembered where things were then last year. And then the two trips he made out to be with Shannon right after that. And how he came to me a few days after our anniversary last year and said that he had thought about me all day on our anniversary but didn't call, because, 'what was there to say?'
And now here we are to September. And the 25th will be the Anniversary of Beloved's return. We have come a long way.
Beloved is struggling with his feelings of worthlessness. To go against all that he once stood for, and to do it so fully, well, it just doesn't leave him feeling great about himself. I mean, I think anyone can understand that.
And I have my ups and downs.
I have written a few posts but not actually published them. I think I'll get to that.
Anniversaries have just been on my mind for the past few months, and I am taking advantage of a quiet evening to write these things down.