Tag Archives: Move Out

It’s been seven months

On October 14, 2011, I was in the kitchen making dinner. My wife had begun preparing for a grueling work schedule that would continue through the month of October, and she was really beginning to feel the pressure, and to recognize how unfeasible that workload really was. She came into the kitchen as I was finishing up cooking, and I gave her some food. Then, I made one critical mistake: I took a pot that was not in use off of the stove, and instead of putting it back in the pantry, I put it on a crate underneath a utility table. We keep a couple of skillets there, so I figured it wasn’t a big deal.

It was. She erupted at me, and asked me why I didn’t just go put the pot back where it originally came from. I responded that I was in the middle of cooking, and that there were other more important actions to take, like, for instance, feeding her, so she could get back to work. She then said, “You are lazy, and you will never change,” and left the kitchen in a huff.

When I entered the living room, she was sitting on the couch, watching TV and eating the food I had prepared for her. As I sat down, she really unloaded on me. She told me that she felt our marriage was over, and that she wanted to separate. Actually, she wanted me to leave the house. I had heard her get this way when she’s been under similar pressure in the past, so I thought this was just temporary and would blow over. I said, “look, I know you’re uner a lot of stress right now…”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. She told me that this time it was different, and that she meant business. She wanted me out of the house, and suggested I move back to California with my family at Thanksgiving. Or, perhaps I could get an apartment that was closer to work. Either way, she wanted me out. “I deserve to be happier than this,” was her summative remark.

I was flabbergasted.

This was the beginning of my marital crisis. Today is Monday, May 14, 2012. The scene I described above happened 213 days ago, making it exactly seven months since all of this began.

I thought our problems were solvable. What I didn’t know at the time is that, to her mind, they were not and never would be solvable. She had begun an emotional affair 5 days earlier, and had been probably flirting with the idea of starting that affair for at least a month prior to it beginning. From that night forward, she did not sleep in our bed. She moved herself into the living room, and slept on the fold-out couch at night. She did that for two and a half months. Then she decided to make it more “real,” and moved in with a couple of friends in early January. She would spend most of the day here, but would sleep at their house. This apparently wasn’t real enough, so she began to limit her time at home in February, and eventually actually did move out toward the end of March. That was 52 days ago. At some point thereafter, she moved in with the adulterer. I don’t believe this happened right away, but as near as I can figure, it was probably on or around April 6. That would make it 38 days that she’s been living in the house of a twice-divorced, serial adulterer, a man who has no qualms about lying to his own flesh and blood (his daughter) about the nature of his “relationship” with my wife.

I have been waiting patiently for the affair to end for over six months now. I have heeded the credible advice I was given, and just gotten out of the way so that it can run its course. I have continued to reach out to her and to work on myself in the interim.

I am all but certain that the bloom is likely off the rose at this point. They initially did not get to spend much time together, but since at least February they have had relatively unrestricted access to one another. And, there is really nothing like living with someone to learn what they are really like. I don’t think my wife and I ever really began to have disagreements or arguments until we began cohabitating. Of course, there was a big difference: neither of us had another committed relationship going on, and so there was nothing to hide or to be dishonest about. Neither of us was or had ever been married. She has all these problems now, though: she is married, she does have to hide things from me and from others, and she does lie about things constantly. That’s a trifecta if ever there was one, and it will bring down that affair.

213 days is a long time. I know people who have been in marital crises for even longer. One thing I have in common with these people is that we are committed to our marriages, and will not give up on them just because things have become difficult. I know people who have obstinate spouses, and others who have spouses who, like mine, are committing adultery. I know of some wayward spouses who are hiding their affairs and trying to keep a sense of normalcy in their marriage, and others who have decided that the affair is the path of the future, and are doing everything in their power to make that fairy-tale future a reality.

The one thing that all of these departing spouses, obstinate and wayward alike, have to contend with is a formidable force that they had not reckoned with: the unconditional love of their spouses who are standing up for the marriage. Our message is clear: “no matter what has happened, and no matter what is happening now, I still believe in us, and I will always believe in our marriage.” This is an inconvenient message for spouses to hear, if they are seeking to undermine their marriages. They are reminded that they are quitters, that they don’t want to look at their own fixings, and that their spouses are taking moral positions that need no defending whatsoever. Thus, they tend to fight back, and they sometimes fight back hard.

With all that said, I’ve seen some encouraging signs over the past week. I have no idea where they’ll lead, or if the trend will continue, but  just moments ago I received an email from my wife thanking me for helping her in editing some texts she had translated. She was emphatic about it, too: “thank you soooo much,” she wrote. Her behavior this past week has not been characteristic of a woman who wants to destroy her marriage. Instead, it’s been one of a woman who still feels a connection to her husband, and who is reluctant to give that up, even if she thinks her current trajectory requires her to do so.

So that’s where we’re at, 7 months on. I am hopeful that there will continue to be positive signs, and that these will lead to a real breakthrough in the coming days.

It’s been a month

It was a day very much like today, a beautiful, clear, sunny day. It was the kind of day in which the air is so clear that the mountains, though some forty miles away, seem like they are right next to you. It was a day for picnics in the sun, walks through the park, or letting the dog splash around in the water. Except on that day she moved out.

It’s really hard to believe that it was 30 days ago. The pain of that day is still so fresh right now. There are other things that have happened recently that keep that pain fresh.

It’s also hard for me to believe that this marital crisis I have been enduring has been going on for over six months now. Six months. That’s crazy. A half a year already. It is really a testament to the childish egotism of the obstinate spouse that they can hold a position for so long, especially when it’s an unwinnable position like adultery. At least children give up faster. Adults, on the other hand, have much more elaborate ego narratives to maintain.

It’s frustrating at times, and infuriating at others. There are times when I feel peace and times when I feel unease. There is also a lot of pain that comes and goes. Yet I know that this situation is ultimately impermanent, and that at some point in the fairly near future all of this pain and frustration will be a thing of the past.

“An affair is like a bribe.” This was advice I received recently via my marriage reconciliation program. It’s like a bribe in that it clouds the adulterer’s judgment: they say and do things that would never have occurred to them otherwise. It’s as if the whole world is viewed through the tainted lenses of the affair. This is the so-called “affair fog.” It can be very thick and somewhat stubborn to burn off. But it does eventually burn off, and when it does, it is said that the adulterer begins to see the whole world through new eyes. I do not doubt that this is true, although I have no direct experience of this yet.

What I do have direct experience with is my wife’s stubbornness. She has always been like this. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. She will be the last person in the world to admit she is wrong. Honestly, although she has always been this way, the love that we had between us softened those hard edges and made it possible for her to open up to me, to admit defeat, and to feel vulnerable. However, over the past few years things have become more difficult between us, and the stubbornness became a kind of wedge. Now that I’m trying to get us to reconciliation, she is doing everything she can to keep that wedge there.

Why would she do this? It’s simple: when that wedge vanishes, she will be right back to square one, and will have to confront all of her issues head on. None of her issues has changed one iota, and in fact most of them have gotten worse. The wedge keeps her in the fairy-tale world she currently inhabits, where adultery really isn’t immoral, so she needn’t feel guilty about anything she has done, is currently doing, or plans on doing in the future.

Okay, okay, okay. I know I go on and on and on about adultery on this blog. In a way, it has defined too much of my life over the past six months. What I really need to go on about is reconciliation. But I’m not there yet. I’m trying my best to get there. The frustration arises from the knowledge that I’m doing all the right things, I’m staying the course, and I’m holding the vision, but despite all that (or probably more accurately, because of all that) my wife is still digging her heels in and trying to get her way.

What she’s beginning to see, I think, is something that is probably very disturbing to her: no matter what she tries to do to discourage me, I remain as determined as ever to get us to that point of reconcilation. I think this is hard for her to fathom. She is the the determined one, not me. I go with the flow. That was one of her biggest beefs with me, too, that I was not motivated enough to do things. She looks at herself and thinks, “when I have a goal, I just go for it.” So now there are two of us who are determined, but only one of us has the power of virtue on our side.

That’s what will help me be victorious.


Day 1, post (actual) move-out

I arrived home last night to an emptier house. She had indeed brought the movers in, and they hauled her stuff out. Not all of it, but a lot, maybe 70%. Three big pieces of furniture, and all her boxes.

I’ve heard a number of stories of obstinate spouses who separate and move out. The stories are never pretty. Such spouses often are destructive. They show tremendous disregard and insensitivity toward those they leave behind. There is a remarkable edge of cruelty to their behavior, as though they want to punish their spouses for what they perceive to be their failed married lives.

Folks, this is bad karma when people behave in this way. Bad karma is never rewarded with positivity. It always manifests at some point in some negative fashion. It’s not a tit-for-tat situation, and the effect could be delayed years, if not (in some philosophical views, at least) lifetimes. Its manifestation could be minimized through virtuous activity, or it could be intensified through non-virtuous, hurtful actions. The obstinate and/or wayward spouse creates an inordinate amount of bad karma, every day, for months on end. So it is with my wife.

But she’s not all bad, you know. I know the virtue that lies deep within her, inside that truly tender and beautiful heart of hers, that heart that currently is encased in steel. That heart is too vast and beautiful truly to be limited by such encasement. It peeks out here and there, gushes out in unguarded moments, and even explodes out at times. I’ve seen all of these things in the past five and a half months.

Yesterday my wife left this house. She did and said everything she could to try to quash my hope. But, as I said before, hope only dies if you kill it. My hope is still alive. It fuels my passion and gives me drive to continue to do all the right things, despite all of the actions my wife might take to try to discourage me. I have the power of the universe behind me, the universal power, the power of love. That is a power that is truly unstoppable.

There were anomalies in her departure. I arrived home and found an empty house, but I also found a clean house. She had done the dishes and vacuumed the floors. She texted to thank me for the leftovers I had instructed her to eat. Then, oddest of all, she neatly, carefully, and thoughtfully arranged my belongings on the furniture that she had left behind. She had turned our dining room table into a sort of desk, moving it into the wall underneath a wind. She placed bookends on the desk, and neatly lined up several books. She placed my pens neatly to the right side next to paper and other writing materials. She placed a plant and display of flowers (which I had bought) on the left side of the table. In the middle of the table, she placed photos that I had received from my sister of my niece and nephews. These were not haphazardly placed, either: they were very neatly and tastefully arranged, almost like a rainbow, with careful attention to detail. In the bedroom, she had removed the dresser and some things from the wall, but had placed several pictures on the one dresser that remained. In her office, she had taken out her desk and bookshelf, but had placed flowers and several pictures (which I had given her) on the piano. It was as if she was saying that she had to go now, for a time, but that she really still cared. And then this morning, out of nowhere, she sends me an email with no text other than a link to a webcam live stream of nesting bald eagles. I have no explanation for this, apart from the fact that she must have seen this (possibly with the adulterer) and thought I’d appreciate it.

Well, of course she does care. Any spouse that puts up a fight actually does care. If they didn’t care, you’d just get the cold shoulder and never hear from them again. This is where it gets even more interesting. In our conversation yesterday, she said a number of things that totally gave away her game plan. She told me there was no hope, and that she would not be coming back. That, of course, is adultery-speak, fueled by the dopamine-addict’s affair-fog addled mind. She told me she had found an apartment, but would not tell me where she’d be moving. She’d keep that a secret for a time. She also accused me of threatening her. This was not the first time I’d heard this, by the way. I’ve never given this woman a threat in my entire life. So what exactly did she perceive as me threatening her? Simple: I just said that I still believed in us and our marriage. From her point of view, that’s a threat, and probably the most severe threat that anyone could deliver to her. Her entire future, the survival of the absurd fairy tale she thinks she can make real, depends on me going away and agreeing to her agenda. She doesn’t want to have to end our relationship without my consent. I’m just not going to give that consent, not now, not ever. Why? Because she has made absolutely no effort to work with me to solve our issues, as is her responsibility (i.e. per her promise to me through our wedding vows). She just wants an easy out, a painless escape, a simple chance to run away from it all, to leave that horrible villain in her story (me) and live happily ever after with Prince Charming (the adulterer).

Of course this is nonsense. Prince Charming does not pray on married ladies in fairy tales, nor does he do that in real life.
But sick, emotionally immature, morally retarded, and terribly lonely middle-aged perverts do. That’s what she found: a pervert cum sycophant who temporarily makes her feel good, if not “perfect.” At some point, the real world intrudes. The dog takes a shit on his carpet for the 25th time and foul words are uttered that are truly hurtful and shocking to the owner of that dog. (This could happen — our dog never did this before this crisis erupted, and since then she’s been an indoor shitting machine.) The pervert’s spiritual “mentor” gives an ultimatum because his mentee is bringing potential scandal to his shrine. The abandoning spouse gets read the riot act by her advisor for not attempting to complete her doctoral dissertation. Or maybe something else.

Does this sound far-fetched? I think not. The real world has begun to speak, and quite swiftly at that. It is beginning to speak in ways that I could not have anticipated. I had a full day of teaching today, and two of my colleagues inquired about my wife. They have no idea of our situation. I just don’t talk about it with anyone, since it’s not their business. I attempted to be truthful to them without giving too much information. Then a student approached me to ask if my wife had deleted her Facebook account. He was one of her “friends,” and apparently is no more. I suspect he got defriended and blocked, as likely have many others, myself included. I told him that I had no idea, since I don’t really visit Facebook anymore. He seemed to have been a bit upset by her disappearance. Another colleague emailed to ask me how my wife was doing, and to inquire as to whether she might be available for some work in a couple of months. I avoided answering that question. I’m sure there will be many more such ways in which the real world will speak, and when it speaks into my wife’s life it will be truly powerful — powerful enough to blast the walls of perfidy wide open.

Until then, I simply persevere.

Tough times

Today is far too beautiful of a day for things to be so crappy. It’s one of those gorgeous spring days we get in this part of the country where the skies are totally clear, all the haze is gone, and you can see the mountains in the distance as if they were right next to you, crystal clear and extremely vivid. Maybe it’s befitting that, on a day like today, my wife should formally move out.

I woke up very early, a bit before 6:00 a.m. I went to bed quite late, and then couldn’t really sleep very well. I realized that, after my eyes popped open, I’d probably do best just to check my email and then engage in my morning spiritual practice. I did this, and then went out to our favorite bakery to buy some pastries. I figured that, if my wife really were going to go through with her plans, I might as well at least offer a bit of sweetness before she goes.

I got home from the bakery around 8:30 and she still wasn’t home. I took a shower and then made some coffee. Time ticked on, slowly. I was beginning to think that maybe she had changed her mind and postponed the movers, since she absolutely wasn’t ready for them yet. But then, there she came, rounding the bend and up through the yard, right about 9:30. I told her I’d made some coffee, and offered her some. She agreed to join me, and had a rhubarb danish. I had already finished my croissant, which was a good thing, as I knew things would get emotional.

I asked her if we could talk a bit, and she assented. I started with some logistics: we have to meet to figure out our taxes, so we set aside a date for that. I asked her about the dog, and how we’d manage “custody” of her; she said that she’d take the dog, but we’d figure something out, maybe a week with me and a week with her, alternating like that. That sounded okay to me. Then I told her that I wanted to just talk about my feelings, and she was okay listening to me. I told her that things were very hard for me right now, and she said that it was hard for her too. I told her that the happiest day of my life was the day when I proposed to her and she agreed to marry me. Then I told her that today was the saddest day of my life thus far. I told her, quite honestly, that over the past five and a half months I had felt as if my heart had been ripped out and shattered into a million pieces, and that this had happened over and over and over. She could understand that. I told her that I understood she felt the need to do all the things she was doing, and that I could be respectful of her process. I explained that we all have a process to go through, and that in a marriage both partners have processes that never really coincide. Part of the secret to successful marriages is being mindful of that fact. I told her that I felt responsible for initially withdrawing from her some years ago; I was working a stressful job that took up a lot of my time, and I just became unavailable. Things only got worse for me after I’d lost that job and I went through a fairly existential crisis. I explained that, once we disengaged from each other, the system that is our marriage began to break down. I also told her that I didn’t feel that in any way it meant that things were over between us. I told her that I still believe in us and in our marriage, and that there is always hope. I further said that hope never dies, because true hope has its basis in love. Hope can only die if you kill it. I did use those words, not to be harsh, but to express something I feel to be an experiential fact. I finally told her that, while I’d been struggling with the fine line between attachment and compassion, I felt that by this point I had nothing left to be attached to, even though that did not mean I was not giving up on our marriage. (What I did not express was that I am not attached to the outcome of my actions, but that my actions would continue because I feel it to be the right thing to do.) I also told her that I simply could not be at home while she continued to pack, and especially not when the movers showed up. It was just too painful for me to watch. She did agree to let me have the dog this weekend. This crisis has been very difficult on the dog. She does not like being dragged all over the place and having her routine interrupted. Dogs never like that. Every time she comes home it seems like she’s relieved to be back, she hangs out by me a lot, and then she sleeps a lot and very deeply. Not normal sleep, but flat-line, exhaustion sleep. I feel very sorry for her being subjected to all this.

She eventually got a bit defensive, and started giving me her typical rationalizations and words of caution. She would not be coming back. There is no hope. I am attached and need to give that up. Then, after telling me several of my faults which were mostly no longer operative, and to some extent were just her projecting onto me, she then told me of all my positive attributes. It was a long list. According to her, I’m honest, faithful, sensitive, intelligent, caring, generous, and maybe a dozen other things. It kind of makes you wonder why someone would want to leave you when they see all these things in you that seem so inherently positive. But that’s what adultery does to people. They go crazy, actually, and cannot think rationally about what they are doing. Their judgment is totally clouded by the fog of the affair. They do patently stupid things like spend hundreds of dollars to hire movers, and then hundreds if not thousands more on apartment rental that they cannot afford, they obliterate relationships, deny their own fixings, and generally begin a spiral down into self-destruction. This pretty much always happens. Adulterers are deeply unhappy people, and they cover over the existential emptiness of their souls with the flimsy band-aids of adulterous trysts.

So that was pretty much it for our discussion. She went back to packing. Rush, rush, rush, pack, pack, pack. The movers were going to be showing up in a couple of hours, and she was nowhere near ready. At some point we ended up in the bedroom together. I showed her a new mala I had bought, a really beautiful one made from lapis lazuli. (You can see a picture of it if you click the link above.) I then somehow asked her for a hug. I don’t know why, but I did, and she agreed to give me one. Right after we hugged I was overcome with emotion. I told her, “I hope you don’t mind if I cry.” There was somehow just space for this to arise, and it did. She said it was okay. And I cried. Hard. I cried for maybe 3-4 minutes or so, and it was a deep, visceral kind of crying, in a way, the kind that babies do. I had no agenda, no story line, it was just pure pent-up emotion that needed to come out.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, it went away. I said, “okay, that’s it, that’s enough.” She was shocked that I could cry so hard, and then suddenly be done. I told her that, if your heart is truly open and you don’t have any attachment to your emotions or story lines running with them, that emotions just come and go like the passing clouds. They show up on the scene, have their own life, put on a display, which in a way can be quite beautiful and pure, and then they go. That’s exactly how it was. After that, I felt pretty much okay, like I could just let go. It was almost like I’d released 5 months’ worth of pain. That’s not really true, there’s still pain there, but somehow a lot of it just went — poof, gone.

I had bought my wife a card yesterday, and spent a couple of minutes writing some final thoughts. I left the card on her computer, said goodbye, and left.

Then I went and joined the new gym that opened nearby. That’s how I roll. Yes, I feel like shit, but life does go on. I cannot hold on to someone who is in the midst of a crisis that is being caused by outright craziness. That craziness has to run its course, which, I’ve been advised, it will. All affairs run their course. While the partners are still in the fog, as my wife clearly still is, they simply cannot see reality as it is. They try to convince you that their reality is real, and not some sort of weird cognition that is totally clouded by dopamine addiction. But the addiction does and will pass. After it passes, the adulterer feels shame, remorse, guilt, embarrassment, and humiliation. They go through the motions of realizing the gravity of their errors, and state that they cannot believe the kind of person they had become. They say that it doesn’t seem real in retrospect. And, if you’re still around and have worked on yourself, they see you with a whole new set of eyes and come back to you, very motivated to reconcile.

That’s what I’m waiting for. The affair has to run its course and I simply can’t interferer with that. Interference just makes it worse. Once it’s over, then I’ll have my opening to truly reconnect. That might then become the happiest day of my life.

Steeling myself for the walkaway

She’s going to leave tomorrow, folks. Of that, I’m sure. She has a plan, she has boxes, and she has a timeline. I’m not going to stop her, either. I will be home. It will be ugly. It will probably be more painful for her than it will be for me, and that is exactly how it should be. I am not the one who has betrayed anyone. I am not the person who is abandoning anyone. I am not the person who is behaving like a selfish five-year-old.

Actually, the analogy of the five-year-old is particularly apt: a child can put his fingers in his ears, drop to the floor, start kicking and screaming, and drown the world out to get his way. An adult, on the other hand, needs to have an affair, and/or threaten separation if not divorce to get her way. The basic psychology is the same: it’s ME! ME! ME!

I feel particularly lucky that in my spiritual training I was required to spend 8 months studying compassion Yes, there is an entire philosophy that surrounds this topic, and the literature and practices are quite extensive. I am also lucky that I have done and continue to do compassion practices. I think that this is where a lot of people get stuck. They feel so horrible that they cannot see their partner’s behavior for what it is: confusion. There isn’t a single person who would betray their spouse, or that would threaten to leave their spouse that is not deeply confused.

Anyway, if you’re reading this, wish me luck. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, too. I know this is a temporary situation, and that it will pass, but as long as the affair is going on, nothing substantially will change.

What an adulterer does; or, the fog has not lifted

Not more than two hours after my last post my wife left me. Supposedly this would be the start of her separation from me, except that it isn’t. Here’s what happened:

I arrived home after running some errands, and found my wife in her office, sitting in front of her laptop. Her connection with that machine has become truly pathological in recent months. I walk in to say hello, and notice that she’s having a chat with a friend over Facebook. I also notice that there is a cell phone sitting next to the computer that is different than the cell phone she has been using for the past two years. This is the cell phone her lover gave her for their top-secret communications. I have seen this cell phone before, but she does not know that I know of it. I also notice that there is a stack of cards in the office, and I later verify that every single card and note I have given her is in this pile, along with other cards she got during the holidays from other people. This isn’t snooping — this stuff is right out in the open for anyone to see.

As for Facebook, we deactivated our accounts back in November, but then she got back online there in the past couple of weeks, supposedly on an experimental basis. I had also reactivated my account to see if I wanted anything to do with that site anymore, as it was the one that started to bring down our marriage, and have scarcely looked at since doing so. I logged on, and could find no sign of her anywhere, even though she was online. So, I created an extra account and found her — she has apparently blocked me. This is appears to be one of the adulterer’s defense mechanisms: try to shut yourself off from your spouse any way you can. Nevertheless, she holds on to other memorabilia from me. How quaint.

I make some tea and bring it to her, and she thanks me for it. Then, about 10 minutes later, she suddenly walks out into the living room and says, “I’m going to ****’s house for the weekend, and I’m taking the dog with me. I’ll be back on Monday.”  The person she names is a common friend and colleague, the person whose home she has planned to move into this month. I ask her what the heck she’s talking about, why she needs to leave so suddenly, and she says something to the effect that I should already know she’s leaving, and that I never want to listen to her. I tell her that I’m always happy to listen to her. She has already hardened herself emotionally for this, and now she really begins to steel herself. She puts the dog into a carrier, picks up a couple of bags, and walks out the door. I ask her if she news any help, and she declines. I simply say, “bye,” as she walks down the street, and get no response.

Honestly, at this point, I was a bit freaked out. But I had driven by this friend’s house a half an hour earlier, and there was visibly nobody home. Right about this time, the mailman came, and there was a package for my wife. So, I figured it would make a good excuse to drop by this friend’s house to deliver the package. I was getting ready to go to work, so I brought the package with me. The friend’s car was in the driveway, so I figured she’d be home. I rang the doorbell, and there was no response. Nobody was home at all.

So, what really happened? There is only one explanation. She went to be with her lover for the weekend. (I have evidence, but I’ll get to that later.) First of all, it would make no sense to say that you’re beginning your separation so precipitously, go over to the place you’re moving into, and not bring any boxes or anything. Second, why would anyone be in such a rush to leave, if they really were separating? There was no reasonable trigger to make her leave, none whatsoever.

The reason I know that she was with her lover is simple: she logged into our ISP webmail account from that location. I was logging in remotely to check some email, and noticed the most recent login to have come from the area he lives in. I pretty much expected this. Her actions are so totally transparent at this point in time as to almost be laughable.

This means that the fog has not yet lifted, my friends. Not that it’s not being lifted by external circumstances — it is — but rather the more that external reality intrudes, the more she tries to pull the blinders of that fog right back down. It’s actually really pathetic. She managed to make it exactly 4 days without seeing her lover this time. I believe she just availed herself of a simple opportunity, and poorly planned her rationale. I don’t even know if she told this friend of ours that she was being used as the subterfuge, but, since I’ll be seeing this woman tomorrow, I’ll find that out. What I do know is that since she has been home she has spoken to her family, and they absolutely disapprove of the affair. They are trying as hard as they can to convince her that it is the wrong course of action. This pressure will likely increase. But my wife is so determined to prove that she is right that she will just shove her fingers in her ears and scream at the top of her lungs to keep out the inevitable sound of reality.

This is why they tell you that the wayward spouse (or the obstinate spouse, for that matter) has no credibility. They just don’t.

Then again…

Late breaking news. My wife’s friend, the person whom she has been planning on moving in with for the month to facilitate a separation with me and a path toward living with her lover, is stopping by tomorrow morning to drop off boxes. Unbeknownst to me, my wife had ordered some boxes and packing materials online, so I guess she’s going to try to commit herself to the path of craziness. She is already guilt-ridden as it is, and my presence during her packing fiasco will probably compound that. Not only that, I will be home when this friend drops by, and that will probably make the situation for both of them very awkward.

Cheating spouses are crazy. The do not have rational thought processes. They can seem totally normal, and at the same time maintain a fairy tale (i.e. the affair) and various narratives that make you out to be the villain, and which justify their unjustifiable behavior. Adultery is a form of temporary insanity. I’m pretty certain of this. Every case of adultery I have ever heard of includes a wayward spouse that will not listen to reason from anyone; fast forward a few months when the affair has ended, and that same person sits there and says, “What on earth was I thinking? What kind of person did I become?” Oh, how I eagerly await that day.

UPDATE: She had second thoughts about the timing of this, and called her friend to see if she instead could drop by this evening when I won’t be home. Yes, this is cowardly behavior, but then adulterers are moral cowards. That’s just how it works with them.

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