SurvivingInfidelity.com^®

I remember well that early evening. It was at twilight, February 4th, 1972, while the horizon’s pinkish hues were fading that I 1st kissed my wife. She was 6 days short of 18 years old, and I was 2 weeks into my 19th year. It was at that very moment, when my lips touched hers, that I handed her my heart and she placed it next to hers. In over 53 years, I have never asked for its return.

That is the magical part. One that can be too easily lost when the innocence is murdered. Some may question the veracity of that Valentine Month’s story I tell myself. And that is okay. But I do choose to remember it, as I want to remember it, for I have no need or desire to rewrite that precious moment. In fact, I would argue that it is essential to retell, whether real or fairytale, this adaptation of my story to myself. It is an important reminder of a sweet, buoyant moment frozen in my memory that assists me in not allowing the cruelty of Infidelity to drown all hope.

I know, I don’t need to tell anyone here that sexual betrayal is an adept killer of the mind, body, and soul. It possesses finely honed skills at finding tiny, insignificant fissures that exist in all relationships, good or bad. And then, when the time is just right, with malignant genius it ruptures even the strongest of foundations. That fracturing may be experienced on day 1 of D-day or it, like in my case, might quake the foundation decades later.

In the general population, I think a common belief is that only bad marriages have infidelity visitations. I’ll admit, I was one of those people. Some even believe that only bad people betray their spouses. I probably wouldn’t have thought that. I’m not saying people here believe this, for it appears to me that collective wisdom is that infidelity invades all forms of relationships. I’ve come to believe, as have many others, that no individual, couple or marriage is immune to the possibility of infidelity.

I don’t know why I’m sharing this ancient memory followed by disconnected, disjointed thoughts. Maybe I’m feeling nostalgically romantic or, more than likely, a little emotionally overwhelmed. Either way, I’m thankful for all of you sharing this moment in time with me.

Thanks to all of you, the story I will tell myself, years into the future, will be that my time spent with you guys was healing.

Asterisk

I don’t know why I’m sharing this ancient memory followed by disconnected, disjointed thoughts.

For me, venting equals healing -- or at least venting can lead to it.

Getting disjointed thoughts out on "paper" kind of gets any lingering bits out into the open.

...murdered... the cruelty of Infidelity to drown all hope... killer of the mind, body, and soul...

These are just from this post. The phrases you've used in other posts are equally... I don't know... extreme.

I understand where you're coming from because, you know, I've been there and done that. In all of my years here on SI, the one thing that never ceases to amaze me is just how hard the betrayal of infidelity hits people (including me).

But... "killer of the mind, body and soul?" Seriously? You're dead? Soulless?

This post starts off with a beautiful, romantic moment. One paragraph, Asterisk. One!

And then... the death of your mind, body, and soul.

Your wife chose an affair. There's no such thing as the "Infidelity Fairy," or demon, or whatever, who sniffs out vulnerability and sneaks in with "malicious genius."

She made conscious, deliberate choices during her affair.

She didn't murder you, didn't give you a lobotomy, or steal your soul. She broke. It happens. She's human.

And you don't know why, do you? And it's eating you alive.

Unhinged,

It is a little tricky informing a betrayed how they should or shouldn’t feel. Sorry I’ve disappointed you. I respect your opinions Unhinged and will be more careful in expressing how I felt while trying to make sense of my wife’s choices.

Asterisk

Oh, no! You don't get off that easily, sir. I never said anything about how you should or shouldn't feel. I have never, at least that I can recall, told a betrayed spouse how the should or shouldn't feel. It's got nothing to do with disappointment. I have no expectations here.

Just hope.

...trying to make sense of my wife’s choices.

That’s not your job; it's hers. It always has been, and always will be, because she's the only one who can.

She's never been able to explain her "whys" to you because she never tried to own and fix her shit.

Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me to fuck off, if that's how you really feel. But don't bullshit me and don't bullshit yourself. You're dying for an explanation. It's been driving you bonkers for... thirty years.

It's the one topic you try so hard to avoid that it totally betrays you.

Peace, brother.