Blame

I meant what I said about you ruining our marriage

I meant it when I said it was bent but you broke it

I was astounded that you looked surprised when I said it

You say you’re not happy, but you were with her:

Without her, you would’ve seen you were happy with me

Without her, your marriage promises would be in tact

We’d be reigniting not rebuilding

Without that, there’d be a foundation of trust

Instead there’s a foundation of lies,

a vat of unforgiveness,

a dirty secret

a shattered vow

a chasm of pain

a mountain to climb

It’s all broken and I don’t like mosaics

I guess I’m standing here looking at what’s left and wondering if it’s enough, wondering if I can still do this: On the one hand it’s broken, to a degree I’m broken, and I am struggling to trust him, struggling to love him. But on the other hand if I end this, I’m teaching the kids that forgiveness is not always possible, that God doesn’t give you the strength to get through anything, that God is not enough.

I’m scared of being alone – not on my own, but alone. But I want SO much more than I’ve got. I want to be wanted, to be cherished, I want to say he’s my best friend, that I love him with all my heart, that I trust him implicitly. And man how it stings when I hear other people saying those things to their partners. We’re right in the ten year anniversary zone at the moment with so many of our friends hitting that, and all I can think is that for us, 10 years marked the start of his affair. When we celebrate an anniversary what does it mean? Celebrating our vows seems laughable – the promise to be together forsaking all others as long as we both live is broken and I know in my head God can fix it, but my heart and my soul are objecting with everything they have.

I was discussing marriage with a friend recently and things weren’t ideal. There were many and frequent disappointments. I encouraged her and recommended they try to reconnect, but between us we struggled to find mutual interests for them to do. It’s just the same inside this house: We have no shared interests, no shared passions, just the kids as glue. His celebrations are not mine – his new camera causes me pain that he doesn’t share his money with the family, or invest in the future and can just shell out £500 without thinking that should be discussed. My celebrations are not his – my bonus is no cause for excitement for him, despite the fact that I offer to spend it all on a family holiday – he didn’t even register something exciting must have happened for me to pick up the phone to call him when he saw my missed call.

I asked for monetary transparency, no movement there.

I asked for open passwords, he acquiesced by telling me the apple id

I asked for romance, to no avail – except for a ring I showed him

I asked for all links to be broken and we still have pictures of his past on our computer

I asked for counselling together if things got tricky and he doesn’t think they are.

I am asking myself time and again what is different between before I knew he was having the affair and now in terms of his behaviour and time and again I draw a blank. I don’t know. He’s here more but we’re not close, maybe closer at times, but there is still a gulf of distance at times too, bigger than ever because there’s a blank in our timeline. The laughter is still absent. The romance and passion are still absent. He obviously doesn’t fancy me, and I’m tired of making the first move, to show him I listened to him when he said he wanted me to try more and be more proactive in bed.

I know I’m frosty now, that’s the anger coming through, anger about what happened and how he crossed a line which I can never undo. Anger that it was ok for him to try out a new life, but I am stuck in this one and that even if I end us, I’ll still be stuck, chained to work to look after the kids. Anger that he’s not trying to win me back, but is just here, unbothered, unaffected with no dates, no nights out, nothing new or exciting or showing he’s trying – like I’m just meant to be grateful for him being here.

Then I think of the kids – I want them to believe in marriage, so if I end ours what sort of an example is that? I want them to love their Dad, yet the only way to explain his leaving would be to say that he hurt me, he broke the rules of marriage and he loved someone else and broke my heart. I can see their faces in my mind and hear them saying they miss him. I can hear the questions, why can’t you forgive him Mummy? If you still love him why can’t you be together? How do you explain that the love has changed, shifted, that we’ll always be linked by them, like a brother and sister linked by blood, but that sort of love doesn’t make us friends, doesn’t mean we choose each others company, that it doesn’t like like each other?

Can I imagine loving someone else? No. Kissing someone else? No. Having sex with someone else? No. So is it just fear keeping me here? Or is it hope that things will turn a corner, that things will change, time will be a healer, I’ll forget and  he’ll want me to forgive? That the first steps will be taken to help the wound to heal? But for now, it’s festering, unsolved, questioning….I know Jesus would forgive him if he was in my shoe’s and that Jesus forgives me endlessly, so I should pass that on to him. I know should press in closer to Jesus to get more of his qualities to get me through this, but childishly, I don’t want the process, I want it fixed, so I pull away from Jesus when I need his guidance most….

The Contrast

Before I knew, you were my rock.

I could hide in you.

You let me lean on you.

Your arms offered protection and safety

And I received them gratefully.

Before I knew, I felt secure.

With freedom to tell the truth.

Promises underpinning us.

Knowledge that you’d always be there.

And I relished that.

Before I knew, there was a way back.

Only distance had come between us

That ground could be recovered.

With work we could re-find ourselves.

The foundations were still in tact.

Before I knew, memories were single fold

Simply memories, with no ulterior existence.

Reflections held no ghosts.

Secrets were between us, not from one another

 Challenges were in a single dimension.

Before I knew, the bond was sacred.

The difference between marriage and friendship in tact.

That intimacy unique to us

maintained despite the stresses.

Invisibly holding us together.

Weighing Scales

Him on talking: “Said before, talked at, pointless, nothing new, demonising, raking over, bringing up, already heard, beating with the same stick, ruining a good time”

Her on talking, “Opening up, prompting change, explaining expectations, sharing, articulating, being vulnerable, trying to move them on, seeking to be understood”

Him on the past, “It’s gone”
His past consumes her.

The pans are evenly loaded, but there is no balance.

Not won or fought for, just arrived at.

Here’s how it feels to be second best.

To be the booby prize. To be the consolation:

Thrust upon the ungrateful recipient

Without desire. Without elation.

Tears are shed for the deed to come

For her loss. For choosing me?

Though he choses to stay wed

It’s an achingly hollow victory.

A Call to Action

A wise man told me today that when life throws crap at you, you have a choice; get bitter, or get better…You choose how to react to a situation and that choice will effect not only your actions, but your feelings and even your very make-up; you as a person. That might seem overwhelming, but don’t receive that as a pressure or a threat; rather as a challenge, a call-to-arms.

Ladies, don’t let the bad choices of people around you bring you off course too: Decide to work at your marriages, love your men like you promised at the altar. Commit to persevering with your children, parenting like you’d like to be parented. Love your friends with true loyality, feeding their strengths and taking every opportunity to encourage them.

Our parents and grandparents ‘made-do and mended’. In contrast we are part of a ‘disposable’ generation – all around us broken things are simply binned and replaced. This is a war cry against both attitudes.

Let’s not make do, and let’s not fold at the slightest hurdle. Rather let’s show that we are women of power and integrity and fight for our men and our marriages! Let’s fight for our children and their childhoods. Let’s fight the establishment that says; shift, compromise, change, alter, swap, with attitudes of steadfastness, commitment, certainty, security. Not so we can ‘make-do’, but so we can invest where we are, to sow into our situations and wait for the harvest, so we can have roots and be nourished and grow and in turn feed those around us.

Bitter or better – what will you choose?

The Switch

Twitter: Twatter

Skype: Shite

Drinks: Sex

Friendship: Mess

Truth: Lies

Trust: Tricks

Future: Past

Years: Months

Love: Lust

Integrity: Dust

The Prologue

I mention a friend has suggested a night out we might enjoy together.

You say you are already going : I feel excluded.

ask me, ask me…

I suggest a family camping trip for my birthday.

You say it’s too cold: I feel rejected.

suggest plan b…

In the void after the date, you drive straight home.

I feel you don’t want to spend time with me.

make plans for us…

I suggest a weekend away.

You say yeah and do nothing: I feel unwanted.

show me you care…

I want a kitten for unconditional love.

I want to feel your individual attention unconditionally.

see the need in me…

I explain that Twitter friends alienate me.

Nothing changes.

need me!