Exactly one year ago, almost to the hour, my husband left………..
He discovered weeks and weeks of attempts (from various tactics) had not stopped me from meeting with my attorney that afternoon. He made sure to have an audience (i.e.; every child in this house) as he flew through the house packing, telling them he was being kicked out, the sheriff would be showing up to make him leave, he’d never be allowed back or he’d be arrested. He kept repeating his son would be “snatched” out of here soon and I didn’t care. I was only thinking about myself. I was stealing his kids, leaving their father homeless. I was selfish, hypocritical, evil, heartless, a cunt, a bitch. He had his son sobbing hysterically, he had two of my kids glaring at me, my daughter crying, and me not at all shocked. All I could do was watch, anything else would have been fuel. Despite begging him not to do this in front of them. He left in a shower of glory. A day we’ll all remember forever.
Things did not magically get easier, in fact he paid me back, and I’m still cleaning up the damage, but I’ve become one of the strongest women I’ve ever met! One day I hope my story helps me save a family from hell; just like two very strong women I’ve never even met did for me.
I got the message a lot of us recognize. Some of us have written it. Some of us have received it. The one that comes from the new supply, the new perfect love interest, the new angel waiting to save the day. The now desperate one looking for answers, looking to have their questions answered and concerns validated. The one that is no longer sure what to think of this wonderful person they have come to love and adore. The one that now questions how much of what they’ve been told is true.
Part of me thought “tread carefully”, we all know getting sucked back in happens more than once and anyone that validated the initial concerns is subject to an onslaught of hell, so I really don’t want to be that person. All over again. At the same time, shouldn’t I say “run like hell! No, you’re not crazy!” What is my moral obligation, my ethical obligation? I’m still clawing myself out of hell though, so I can’t hold her hand.
She didn’t marry him and doesn’t have a child with him. It’s easier. She got sick of his shit, kicked him out and now he has nothing. He sends me a text that said he won’t have his phone for awhile (not that I asked) and “hope you girls are ok. With all my heart. Bye.”
And here we go. I can feel the nurturing, sympathizing, caring wife creeping into the back of my soul. And I don’t like it, not one damn bit!