How would you deal with the person your significant other cheated on you with? Would you hate him or her? Would lash out at them? Would you call them a slut to their face?
I don’t think any of these scenarios are the best approach. Take a step back to think about it, it takes two to tango, she / he might not have known that their recent love interest had a partner in the first place. Cheaters should never prosper and here’s what I’d do.
I would be lying if I said I have achieved a complete state of peace and acceptance when it comes to this whole situation.
However, given that there’s no going back from this, I have come down from my initial rage, fury, and embarrassing fits of sobbing, and levelled out at a more ‘mellow’ simmering pot of emotion.
I wish I could have been this collected the day you showed up with him when he came round to collect all of his crap. You had a great time stood there laughing at me whilst I went off on the both of you.
Admittedly, I can see why you were amused, looking at a frumpy woman with mascara all smeared down her face, and blood shot eyes from lack of sleep. You saw me at my worst, my absolute rock-bottom, and you flipped your pretty hair and got into his car, and I could see you both grinning as you backed out of the driveway. I have never contemplated going to jail so seriously in all my life.
The weeks that followed were some of the worst I have ever experienced. I went through a lot of emotions there, some really dark things I didn’t think were possible to feel. I tortured myself at night replaying things in my head over and over again. I found myself obsessively checking social media. The fact he just left, that he was out there happy and laughing whilst I could have been hanging from a shower curtain just completely broke me. I spent 15 years with this man and for what? Those are 15 years I’ll never get back and now I have just been thrown in to a singles pot with the disadvantage of a lined face, the beginnings of gray hair, and that lack of youth radiance that makes those second glances happen.
It took so much time to get here. A lot of group therapy sessions, a lot of one to ones. A lot of forcing myself to get out of bed, to clean, to shower, to rebuild my life in a smaller more compact way so that this gaping hole was no longer there.
t was so hard to get over hating you. You were me, 20 years ago, but better. You didn’t care about me, or what your fun had caused. And then slowly I began to accept things in a different light.
He was a broken man, he always was really. He always needed more, an upgrade, a promotion, this years car model, nothing was ever enough for him. I suppose I should of seen the pattern more clearly and realized that I too would soon need upgrading.
And the thing is, one day you’re going to be me. Time stops for no one. You’re beautiful and radiant now. But in 5 years? 10? If he even sticks around that long. His need for something better won’t stop. You’ll lost the allure when you begin to bicker. He’ll stop calling you so often. He’ll come home later and later.
And then one day, you’ll be sitting at home in your bathrobe, and a woman will call his phone. You’ll pick up, and she’ll say his name or pet name in a sexy little voice and you’ll know the time has come for his upgrade. You’ll stand in kitchen, mascara down your face, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, and you’ll watch him pull away in his new car model of that year, and his improved younger, and more perfect version of you.
Good luck.
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