Rings

     There is a visceral pain now when I see a man wearing a wedding ring.  The immediate thought in my mind is, "He loves his wife enough to wear his ring and honor that marriage. Why doesn't Adam?"

     I may never know the answer to that question. I know the fault lies within him, not within me. However, that doesn't mean that it isn't a punch in the gut to watch other married couples. I broke down in tears the last time I was at church watching a husband whisper something in his wife's ear, something that made her laugh. I wondered why that couldn't be me? How many times had I just taken for granted that Adam would whisper in my ear for 50 more years?

     Let me be blunt: this sucks. There is no other way around it. This pain can not be imagined or sympathized with. It hits in a million different sneaky ways. I feel like a ghost walking around Meijer because all I see are older married couples gently bickering over cereal and peanut butter. They move as one unit after so many years of marriage, one taking over the cart when the other stops to peruse the store's offerings. I always assumed that Adam and I would end up like that and found great comfort in the notion that we would travel around and enjoy each other's company. It hurts when I go to the hardware store to find something the house needs and see married men with their 'Honey Do' lists, gamely tackling their latest project. It feels almost post-apocalyptic to be walking as a single, divorcing woman amongst the mostly-married culture of West Michigan. Me against the zombies. Or maybe I'm the zombie. Dead Woman Walking.

     I always go back to why and how. Why has Adam done this? After witnessing the pain he caused with the first affair, why did he do it again? And how does one feeling person do this to another(in the first place, let alone again)? Depending on who I ask, I get different answers, everything from "He's a cold-hearted, selfish SOB" to "You may never know how or why, but you need to just know it isn't your fault."

     I could hate him. I could put all of the anger and hurt into one big, razor-edged, black mass of hatred that I use to will him out of my heart. I could discount the thousands of loving gestures (hundreds maybe) over the past 13 years, putting them all in the category of further manipulations by him. I could trash-talk him to my family, my friends, and willfully squeeze him out of his place in my memory and my heart.  And that is very tempting. Wouldn't that be the appropriate reaction to a hurt this purposeful and enormous?

     Ugh. But I can't. That's not who I am. I am not a person who hates. I almost wish I was because it seems that it would be easier to hurt and hate than to eventually stumble to a place of forgiveness. Not forgetfulness, but forgiveness.  I will never, ever, ever forget that Adam took the trust I gave him after his first affair, ripped out my heart, put them in a blender, poured lighter fluid on both, lit them, and then turned on the blender.  I will never trust him again. He has yet to keep a single promise that he made in the wake of this last affair. The promises flow easily...the honoring? Not so much. He has lost my trust and he will always be damaged in my eyes.

     It hurts so much to say that and I am crying as I write this. In my eyes, Adam was an honorable man, one who wanted to help other people. He was a generous, kind man who gave money where it was needed. He was funny, intelligent, articulate, handsome, and he stuck by me when I fell ill. I loved him with everything I had in me. We had our difficulties, no question, but I certainly did love that man.  It breaks me beyond description to recognize in retrospect that so many of those qualities I loved in him weren't actually there. That man didn't exist. (And lest you think I am being dramatic, let me just assure you that I heard it from the horse's mouth). I am really trying to not mourn the man I thought he was because I may as well mourn a fictional character. I received wise advice from someone who said, "Be sure to mourn the man he actually was, not the man you thought he was. That man didn't exist."

     I've taken off my wedding ring. I initially thought I would wear it until the divorce is final. However, it struck me after yet another cruelty by Adam that the ring symbolizes our marriage, the fact that I am united in holy matrimony with him. It symbolizes a commitment. That commitment, that holy union, no longer exists. Adam invited two other women into our "holy" union. He has made his choice. I no longer belong to him in any sense and I am not united with him in any sense. I'm not worried about displaying a misleading message of "being available" because I simply don't see ever dating again. Adam accomplished several things during our marriage, one being I have a very difficult time making, keeping, and trusting friends (see  2006). The other is that I'm not sure how I'll ever trust someone again. Adam's deception was thorough and he is accomplished in the art of living two lives. How will I ever know for certain that every man isn't like him?

    Some of you may be uncomfortable reading this.  You may be thinking that my words are harsh and unfair. Let me assure you that these words barely scratch the surface of the pain I feel. Again, let me be blunt: Adam cheated with my best friend in 2006; I forgave him; he's been cheating for the past year and a half with a woman from work and refuses to even try to work things out; he's barely left our home and is spending nights at hers and spending money on her (and yes...he and I are still legally married.) So if you think I'm being harsh, dwell on those facts. Try to put yourself in my place and imagine, just try to picture, how you would begin to feel if that husband you love did those things. And trust me...I didn't see it coming. I thought he was the wonderful, saved, Christian, loving man described two paragraphs above. A point of pride (apparently) in him telling me about the process of revealing his affair to his closest friend at work: "He didn't even know!  He was shocked!!" Like I should swoon with pride because my husband can fool everyone? 

     Yes, this is ugly. This is my life.  These words are true and the hurt is unbelievable. Every day, there is something that hurts more. Today it was Adam talking about the new coffee table and TV stand in his apartment: "It feels more like home now."  Umm...okay. You had a really nice home here with a woman who thought you were wonderful. Really? Your apartment feels like home?

     I'm tired of crying, I'm tired of hurting. I want to purge him from my life and my mind. I understand why divorces turn ugly. People so hurt and so tired of being hurt lash out in the only way they can: fighting over children, money, and furniture.  I get that now. I'd always been judgmental about it, wondering how someone could drag out a fight over a china cabinet or an extra hour on Sundays. But now I see that these things turn ugly almost without anyone willing it. Someone hurts, so they dig in their heels. The other party lobs a few insults, maybe tries to bully the first party, and fires back by digging in their own heels.  And thus it goes down the drain, into the court system for a number of years. By the time anyone realizes that the china cabinet doesn't mean that much, they're already hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt with legal fees and so many hurtful words have been said that the hatred is intractable.

     In the first few days after Adam dropped his bombshell, we talked of keeping things civil, settling everything, being respectful and kind to each other. That now strikes me as being as fanciful as childhood dreams of marrying a prince and living happily ever after. He is not the one drowning in pain. He left this marriage and went into his already-established relationship with a 'lovely' young-ish paralegal at work. They'd already been dating a year and a half...perhaps all kinks are already worked out and it was a seamless transition for him from wife to...well, you know. It doesn't seem to matter that she's also still married.  Obviously marital laws and the whole marriage-as-an-institution-of-God is not a stumbling block for either one of them. So yes...of course Adam wants to keep things civil because it's not hard for him. The burden falls on me, the abandoned spouse. I'm not sure how long it takes to get over your husband yelling, "Get it through your head...I DON'T LOVE YOU!!!" but I'm pretty sure it takes longer than Michigan's six-month waiting period for divorce.

     I say this now and have moments when I believe it, and I know those moments will start to last longer soon enough: Being single certainly runs rings around being with someone so selfish that they have absolutely zero regard for you, your well-being, and your marriage.