One year since the bottom fell out of my world.
I have lived through false R, trickle truths, therapy (so much therapy), marriage counseling, lies told to my face both big and small, secrets from a decade ago revealed, a couples weekend, family holidays and road trips, a continuing dead bedroom, apologies (so many apologies), tears, intense 4AM talks, hugging, screaming into the void (when no one else is home), holding hands, confessions, soul-searching, a lawyer consultation, heartfelt talks with best friends, health crashes, hope, and despair.
I have no idea how I have held it together, but somehow we are still trying to reconcile. I love my spouse in a familial way, but struggle to like him. In the past couple months, he has become kind and affectionate and is desperately doing whatever he can to salvage things. I wonder daily if it's better to walk away, but I have fears about what that would do to our teenager who, as far as I know, doesn't know about the affair. It's like choosing between walking over hot coals or a bed of nails.
Outwardly, everything is fine. We live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice kid. We have a healthy nest egg for retirement. We have health insurance. We get together with friends and family. I tell myself daily to be grateful for all of this.
So why is this so hard?
I'm also deeply thankful for this community and all the wisdom, humor, and compassion that you all provide on a daily basis.