Lies, lies, lies, yeah…

Before I get started here, I’d just like to welcome to all the visitors dropping by from the Marriage Sherpa website. Apparently I created a crosslink when I posted to one of their articles earlier today, and I’ve gotten a number of click-throughs. (No, I don’t know who you are… I just can see the referring website through my web statistics.) Please have a look around, and feel free to leave a comment or drop me a line if you have questions about any of the resources or other things. Welcome aboard the reconciliation train! It’s a good place to be, but the journey is difficult, but rewarding at the same time.

Anyway, back to business here…

Remember that Thompson Twins song “Lies“? It just came to mind today, for some reason. I never really liked that song, or the Thompson Twins for that matter (please don’t hold this against me if you are or were a fan), but the tag line “lies, lies, lies, yeah” popped into my head a couple of times over the course of the day.

Why? Well, when you’re dealing with a wayward spouse, you can expect lies. A lot of them. Actually, it’s kind of astonishing how a more or less trustworthy and honest person can transform into a deceitful, pathological liar, and call this a “life transformation.” I suppose it is a transformation of sorts, but not a good one.

So what’s she lying about, and how do I know? First, the latter: we have a lot of friends and colleagues in common, and the lies she tells them sometimes come to me. For example, a couple of weeks ago my wife apparently told people that she was sick with the flu, and even told one person that she had developed pneumonia. She did this so that she could stay at Camp You-Know-What for another day or two. It was a bit of a surprise when a couple of people came to me to tell me that they hope my wife is feeling better. I was taken aback, but then again none of these people knows that my wife no longer lives at home.

Her latest lies come to me again via colleagues. She told one that she cannot take some work because she is teaching all weekend long. This is manifestly untrue: she hasn’t taught anyone anything on a Saturday or Sunday since December. These are her “sacred” days of adultery. She’ll be up at the adulterer’s house and will not be anywhere near town, and will certainly not be doing anything remotely resembling teaching. If you’ve read enough of my posts, you might recall that one of my wife’s biggest beefs with me was that she had to work the weekends. Never mind the fact that during the week she did almost no work; working 12 hours over the weekend was just too much to ask. These lies are quite blatant, as are all of the lies that directly have to do with her covering up her infidelity. Worse yet, she has a couple of friends who are also running cover for her, and who are telling lies as well. I received an email two days ago from the friend she has been staying with these past 3 months, and it contained a very blatant lie in it as well. It was obliquely worded, but it basically assured me that my wife would be at her house over the weekend, when I actually know this to be untrue.

Then there are the more subtle lies, which are often more of the tone of this latter lie I received from this friend. My wife has a blog that she has been writing for about 6 years now. She started it to keep her family and friends back home apprised of her daily life, and it was a very positive activity for her that she got a lot of joy from maintaining. She used to post to her blog several times a week, and sometimes as often as every day. Since this crisis began in October, she has posted a total of 17 times. That equates to about one post every week and a half. This says a lot: she would post about all the various and sundry minutiae of our lives, all good and positive stuff. Now she has to keep not just the minutiae but the gross details of her life largely a secret. Her most recent posts have contained pictures that she took at the adulterer’s place, but these were taken in such a way that the location could not really be identified. Unless, of course, you recognize the location as someplace other than our matrimonial household, and also someplace other than the location she has been staying these past 3 months. I also know that she has posted things to her Facebook account, but she has blocked me, unilaterally and without provocation, so I have no idea about the details of what she’s posting there. Not only is this bad form, it’s just stupid strategy: she sort of wants to go public with the affair, but is still ashamed to do so, I think. That’s a good thing. The more brash she tries to be about this, the more likely it is to blow up in her face.

You might be wondering by now what any of this has to do with the photo I’ve featured with this post, since it’s just a picture of dog pawprints in a light dusting of snow — a picture I took a bit over 5 years ago. It has to do with two things, actually. First, my wife’s blog centers around her dog, and her most recent post was of the dog taking a nap in the sun in someone’s backyard. I know it’s not our backyard. This brings us to the other thing: the lie told obliquely to me by my wife’s friend, the woman whose house she has been staying at for the past 3 months. This woman obliquely assured me that my wife was at her house by saying that the dog was comfortable and happy to be spending the weekend there. Ah, yes, it’s so good to have friends lie to you as well: it just makes the flimsy walls of the adulterous situation even flimsier. The picture my wife posted was decidedly not taken in the backyard of this friend’s house. Not at all. So how do I know it was taken at the adulterer’s house? Well, where else would she be? I wasn’t born yesterday, you know, and the evidentiary trail for what she does on weekends is so thick at this point that finding her right now would be a complete no-brainer.

But I’m not gonna go there, no sir. I suspect, from this most recent batch of lies I’ve been exposed to, that she is all but moved into this adulterer’s house. I mean, I don’t think she is officially moved in there, but rather that she is spending all but about 2 days per week there. I think that’s her rhythm as of the past couple of weeks. Does this bother me? Yes and no. Yes, in that I have less access than before. No, in that the increased level of contact will make that relationship wind down that much faster. And if I’m right about all this, then there is additional tension in her life owing to the fact that I do not “know” that she is there, and also owing to the fact that she cannot tell me about it. I just won’t let her talk about such nonsense.

Lies, lies, lies… yeah… great.

Easter: a time for new beginnings

I haven’t really celebrated Easter since I was a child, and even then it was not a religious holiday, but rather an opportunity to find a bunch of candy that had been hidden around the house. So, despite the symbolism of this holiday, it has never had any real significance in my life.

I’m not sure if this Easter will have been any different when all is said and done. Looking back on previous Easters in my married life, I don’t think my wife and I ever did anything special on those days. She did spend many years playing as a choral accompanist for various churches, so she’d typically have a ceremony or mass that she would have to play, but that’s about it. I wrote that statement in the past tense, because she seems to have pretty much obliterated all of those gigs at this point. It’s as if she really doesn’t want to have a professional life or income at this point. It truly appears to be a form of self-destruction that she is engaged in.

As I type these words, Easter Sunday has just passed, and Monday, April 9 is upon us. This marks 182 days since my wife began her perfidious campaign to destroy our marriage. Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t destroy it as such. No, no, no. To her, it’s a “life transformation.” For me it’s been 182 days of anxiety, sadness, pain, tiny glimmers of hope, despondency, worry, and suffering. It’s also been a period of personal growth. My spiritual practice has been renewed and is now stronger than ever. My professional life seems to be going somewhere, finally. My trajectory is up, but my wife’s is down, down, down.

182 days. Sheesh. That’s a long time. A half a year, almost. 5 months and 30 days. To my understanding, this is right about the average duration for most affairs. But it’s not an exact science, you know. There are lots of variables: how long it took for the affair to go physical, how much contact time there was between the partners, feedback from friends and family, and so on. My wife has been pretty careful to apply filters to her life in terms of who she relates to, and to whom she will listen. Disapproving voices are quickly rejected, and approving voices are embraced. Additionally, the first 3 weeks of the affair was pretty much strictly emotional, so those probably don’t “count” as much. After it did turn into a full-blown affair, she didn’t get a lot of face time with the adulterer for the first couple of months, as she was still living in the house full-time.

Well, now that she’s out of the house there are no more excuses. She can throw herself into that filthy, pitiful relationship with reckless abandon. She can broadcast its insipid vacuousness to any and all that might listen. She can draw up make-believe plans for the future that are ever so bright and shiny, and ever so lacking in any possible problems or obstacles. She can begin to see first hand what that “life transformation” is all about.

Let’s cut to the chase. I’ll tell you what it’s all about: emptiness. Absolute, profound, existential emptiness. There is undoubtedly a hollowness in her soul, and she’s trying to fill it with the nothingness of a hideously superficial, narcissistic relationship. This never, ever works.

It’s interesting, because as I’ve had the occasion to visit with my family these past couple of days, I’ve seen things that just don’t make any sense. My parents have a stash of gifts they have gotten from  my in-laws over the years. There are new ones on display. These are not cheap, either. They were accompanied by hand-written notes that were translated painstakingly into English by my mother-in-law. These gifts were sent after my wife began her affair, and with the full knowledge of my wife’s parents of that affair. Now, I don’t know if they are aware that my parents know, but it does seem like they are trying to keep the wheels from coming totally off of this situation. I’m sure they feel humiliated, but there really isn’t much they can do.

Well, actually there is. They could reach out to me. But that hasn’t happened yet, and I don’t know if it’s likely to happen. I haven’t reached out to them because I’ve had no occasion to do so. I would welcome their reaching out to me were it to happen, though. I’d simply tell them that I am totally committed to our marriage and plan to honor the promises I made both to them and to my wife. I’m sure that would resonate strongly with them. Her parents know this affair is bad news, but I just don’t think they know what to do.

Anyway, this brings me back to the title of my post. I’m hoping that this holiday can be a gateway of sorts, an opening to a new beginning. I would like to see the reconciliation process start to take hold and gain momentum from here on out. I would like to see my wife’s selfish, narcissistic activities curtail, her inappropriate relationship crumble, and of course I’d like to see her return home to begin working things through with me. It’s kind of crazy: I once heard it said that if only a wayward spouse would put as much effort into their marriage as they do into their illicit relationship, they’d very quickly have the marriage of their dreams. So long as the mental sickness induced by the affair fog persists, that just isn’t possible. But once the fog lifts, the world will look totally different, and she’ll look at me with a whole new set of eyes.

My aspiration is for that fog to lift soon, very soon, and that she comes home to heal.