Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


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All over the place

Yeah

I’m a bloody mess.

My whole life, if I had a problem, I’d nut it out with my best mate, Rog.

I don’t know what to do about BG. There’s so much good.

But some BIG gaps. And I can’t talk to him like I talked to Rog.

I hate this.


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Question of the day

The support boards.

Sigh.

The same questions are asked in a myriad of ways.

Some know they were in average-to-worse marriages. But still expected, and gave, fidelity, honesty, hard work.

Then there are those of us who believed we were with our best friends, the people we loved more than any other human. Yes, I love my kids, fiercely. But I chose Rog. Absolutely adored and treasured him, and what we had together. I got the children I was lucky enough to get. I thought he was forever. Children grow up and live their lives. So I put everything into him. Into us. We had a lifetime to enjoy each other, right?

He treated me pretty well, mostly. We laughed a lot. We had great chemistry. Great, REALLY great sex. Loads of fun together.

This was asked of us betrayed…

I have a question for anyone in here that discovered their ex’s “secret life.” I’ve read several posts where you were completely blindsided and had no idea. I believe this can happen. Did they treat you really well and if you hadn’t found the evidence you would have continued on in your relationship thinking everything was going great? How do you explain such a split in personality? Be it random individuals or a full blown affair how did they hide that part so well? How hard was it to leave when you believed everything was great? ❤️❤️

I am still in some kind of shock. I truly believed we were great together. I never wanted anyone else. His words told me that he was the same.

It was never true. And those thirty years were wasted on an undeserving, ungrateful, unloving man. And the absolute worst part is, I still love who I thought he was. While he plays house with another woman who believes he loves her. That he was waiting for her, and her alone. Just as much as I believed him, too. Fuck, it hurts so much.

It’s utterly heartbreaking.

And I’ve just got my period. Pretty heavily. I still can’t believe that after a lifetime of having six periods ever until he left me, with cervical cancer, that this is happening to my body. Ick.


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I don’t think he’s happier

Hmmm. This came from a mutual friend today.

He says Roger has huge regrets. The biggest being that he lost me.

Bahaha. Yeah, in your dreams, mate. He hates me and is dismissive and I seriously doubt he even really remembers much at all about me. He did say he’d miss my culinary skills as he drove off to Trinket. He said she doesn’t really cook. Likely another lie. She has three kids. What did they survive on?

Glad I was useful.

Briefly.

I had visions of us being friends. I honestly, truly thought he was the best friend I ever had. I just trusted and adored my darling “soulmate.” FFS. I recall us, during wreckonciliation, talking about how he felt when he was considering leaving me for Leanne.

He said he knew he’d regret it. That we would meet somewhere for coffee. And I would walk in glowing. Just glowing with my new life without him. Beautifully dressed. Hair shiny. Smiling. And he’d know he’d fucked up. That he’d traded a lovely woman in for a total cow. To be honest, I thought he was right. I would shine. He would regret it.

So, what did he do?

He looked for another alternative. He found a frumpy widow, who never left her serial cheater. Someone gullible and vulnerable. Anyone would be better than her cheater. And Roger’s charm channel is amazing! He will have told her he tried. That I was awful. Unforgiving. Mean. Etc.

Unfortunately. It didn’t work out how I imagined. We are not friends. He scares me.

“While the fear running into your ex is more common among newly single, it can also last for a long time, particularly if the relationship had a significant impact on you, or you simply never felt like you got the closure you needed.”

I suffer anxiety about him. I still have dreams and nightmares about him, so there is no swanning in looking composed and beautiful.

I’m so very thankful he moved so far away. Even if he has tainted that region for me.

He doesn’t regret any of it. Both Trinket and he feel they won the lottery. My agony is irrelevant, of course.

Oh, maybe ever meeting me. And getting me pregnant seven times.