Cleaning Up Messes.

Note to self:   If you ever decide to boff another female coworker (not that there will be a next time), don’t forget to remove incriminating evidence from your desk at work.  Stuff you’d have one helluva time explaining to your boss.

Who knew that nearly two years after my unfortunate workplace sexcapade, my desk would contain a variety of  “smoking guns” which I discovered this weekend during a cleaning binge.

Take the trial-size bottle of KY lube that was crammed in the back of my drawer.   It was a gag gift from “other.”   Her way of telling me she thought I was a really swell guy.   Sitting here now, wrapping the bottle in a McDonald’s napkin before tossing it in the trash, I’m reminded that the affair “wasn’t just me.”   KY-girl aimed to get some.

And did.

Rifling through folders in my large bottom drawer, I find even more damning evidence:  A 4GB flash-drive that contains, among other things,  a dozen or so photos of her that I saved when our affair ended.  I don’t know why I saved them.  I guess I was worried I would never see her again, and would forget what she looks like.   (I was right.)  Looking at them now, for the first time in nearly two years,  I feel a mix of anger and sadness.   This was my friend.  I trusted her.   No matter what happened, our secret would always be safe.   But this person –this skinny TV-model posing in a variety of photos– no longer exists, in spirit or in likeness.   (Was she ever real to begin with?)

Delete.

More evidence.  Printout after printout of cell phone text messages between me and OW.    What do I have these?   Oh wait, I remember.   These were my wife’s printouts…for her lawyer.   They were to show my long-term pattern of lies and deception.   I found them at home and brought them to work.   Did I think my wife wouldn’t print out more?   Look at all these text messages!   Hundreds upon hundreds!   I was not only slack in my cover-up, I was crazy!

Shred.

Next folder:  A print-out from my lawyer.    An explanation of what would happen if my wife decided to move forward with the divorce.   She would’ve taken everything.   Kids included.   I would have been relegated to a one-room apartment.   And food stamps!    Yes, I did the right thing by fighting for my marriage.

A Word document on the hard-drive of my computer:   A timeline of OW’s meltdown at work.   My wife demanded that I create this timeline, because there were “holes” in my original story.    Looking at it now, I see how I had cast all judgement aside during OW’s final days at work.   She was crashing and burning.   Drawing attention from our bosses for her erratic behavior.   And there I was.  By her side.   Waiting for her erratic behavior to turn on me…like a loaded gun.

Delete.

Finally, in the drawer where I keep extra pens and my earpiece for live shots, I pull out a vintage photo of me and wife.   Both of us are chubby.   But we’re happy, or seem to be happy.    The suggestion of adultery had not been introduced in our lives.   Noticeably absent from my dear wife’s face is that unmistakable look of betrayal.   The one she wears even today.

And my face?   I’d love to know what the man in the photo was thinking back then, if I was thinking about anything.   I was innocent.  Comfortably numb.  Content with the way things were, and where my life was headed.

I plan to keep this picture forever.

How Long Does It Take to Get Over an Affair?

“Keep your chin up, soldier!” said the woman from Ohio.  “You will get through this.  It just takes time.”

“But how much time?” I asked the stranger.  I was thankful for her comment on my blog, but wasn’t buying it.

Back then, I was suffering deeply from the loss of my so-called “other woman.”  Our affair had ended, and OW was determined never to see or talk to me again.  Goddamn, did it hurt!  I thought I would die.  Life, I was convinced, was over.

That was one year ago.

Guess what?  A year later, I am a living, breathing, functioning adult with high hopes for the future.  The old pain is gone.  Well, mostly gone.  When I do think about her, it’s with a rationale mind.  I have regained control of my mind and heart.  My heart is no longer hers, thank God.

Here’s what it took one year to realize:

First, affairs are reciprocal, which is a fancy way of saying “it takes two to tango.”  Without full and active participation from both partners, it’s over.  No matter what you had or thought you had, you will never have it again.  Game over.  Furthermore, the person who calls off the affair has effectively sent you a message.  That is, you are not as special to them as they are to you.  It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but true.

Second, even if you were special, at least temporarily, society rejects the fuck out of adultery.  Once the affair is revealed, people come out of the woodwork to shut it down.  Quash it.  Destroy it.  A cheating spouse who “sits on the fence” over whether to continue the affair because they still have feelings for that person becomes the target of family intervention.  Husbands, wives, in-laws, friends, even church pastors implore them not to continue, reminding them of their sacred vows.   With that kind of pressure, you don’t stand a chance in hell.

Additionally (and I’ve written about this before), you come to realize that the person you thought you couldn’t live without is no longer actually that person.  Their brain is re-wired.  They’ve cast aside those old, forbidden thoughts.  The very act of returning to one’s husband (or wife) is to abandon their former self.   After a year, it occurs to you that if they were standing in front of you now, you wouldn’t have a damn thing to talk about.  You’re the same, but they are different.

But are you really the same person?

Perhaps not.

I’ve learned so much about myself over the past year, which feels more like ten years.  People who cheat on their spouses are forced to analyze every fiber of their being.  What’s wrong with me?  Am I a bad person?  Was I destined to commit adultery as a child?  Am I oversexed?  Am I morally bankrupt?  Do I find pleasure in destroying lives, including my own?   I have answered ‘no’ to most of these questions, but can I trust myself to be honest?    And the most painful question, why did my ex-lover cast me aside?  She told me I was ‘beautiful.’  Was she lying?

I hate that my ex has bipolar disorder, not only for her sake, but for mine.   It makes the most important questions surrounding my affair unanswerable, no matter what anyone says.  People have affairs all the time, but the bipolar factor makes mine unique.  How will I ever know —truly know– if she cared about me, or if her brain was just gushing chemicals?  It’s taken me a year to realize she will never supply me with those answers.

One year is how long it takes to stop beating your head against the wall trying to make sense of things.  That’s how long it takes to pick up and move on, and chalk up your affair to one of life’s great mysteries.

An unsolved mystery bathed in Depakote dreams.

How History Remembers Affairs.

May 25, 2050.

Rummaging through boxes in a dust-filled attic, the young woman made a startling discovery. A leather-bound journal that belonged to her grandfather recounted the story of his fabled affair. But not the story that had been whispered at family gatherings from the time she was little. These were his words. His version of the story. Proof that her mother’s father was a man who loved deeply and completely.

Blah-blah-blah.

That’s not how history will remember me.

In my house, there is one “official record” of what I did.  One sanctioned version of the truth.  My wife is the author of this record, and my children are her students who, I fear, will preserve the story as “fact” long after my death.

The story is this:

While it “takes two” to engage in an extramarital affair, it was mostly my doing.  If not for me pushing it –always pushing it—the affair would have ended sooner.  More cleanly.  But my pride and lust wouldn’t permit that to happen, according to my historian wife.  I was the one who couldn’t let go, even when she (my ex-lover) wanted out.

It gets worse.

According to my wife, it’s reasonable to suggest that my ex-lover’s bipolar disorder was brought on by the affair that I forced on her.   In other words, had it not been for me, it’s plausible –if not probable—that my ex wouldn’t have bipolar today.

“Do you think it’s just a coincidence that she had a bipolar meltdown during your affair?” my wife argues.  “Why not before?  Why not after?  Logic says you were the cause of it.”

Pause.

This is where I’m supposed to jump in and offer an argument to the contrary, which I’m capable of doing, and have done.  But I’d be lying if I said the timing of OW’s bipolar meltdown hasn’t always bothered me.  It’s true that she told her husband about our affair during her hospitalization.  And if that’s the case, couldn’t it also be true that her hospitalization was caused by the crushing guilt of having an affair?

Then, like a prosecutor who’s hell-bent on securing a guilty verdict in a capital murder trial, my wife deals another lethal blow.

“And where is she now, lover-boy?  If you were in any way important to her, where the hell is she?” my wife said with a smirk.  “I’ll tell you where.  She’s as far away from you as she can get, because you’re the one who made her sick.”

Again, for reasons of pride, I’m tempted to launch into a rebuttal. But there is truth to my wife’s statements.  Maybe not the truth, but enough truth to make me question myself.  Since the affair, my ex has dropped off the face of the earth, like a person living in “witness protection.”  And the last time I spoke to her (almost a year ago), there was a harshness to her voice, resembling anger and disgust.  A fellow blogger once told me (a woman whose husband cheated on her) that “injured spouses” require their unfaithful partners to hate their ex-lovers, as a condition of forgiveness.  While I don’t know if all injured spouses feel this way, I know it is true in my home.  My wife desperately wants me to despise my ex.

But I don’t.  I just can’t.

The point is, no matter what I say, no matter what I’ve written on this sordid blog, history will judge me harshly for my actions.

Where’s the poetry in that?

Which Couple is Better Off? You Decide.

A married man has an affair with a married woman. They get caught. As expected, the shit hits the fan, but both cheaters manage to hold onto their marriages. Yet there is a major difference in how these couples fare in the aftermath of adultery.

Couple #1:

The husband is the cheater. His wife is the victim. And boy, is she pissed! No one argues why. But in typical female-fashion (sorry ladies), she obsesses over every last detail of the affair. Day after day, week after week, month after month, she makes her husband’s life a living hell. His apologies are never enough. His accounts of what happened as dismissed as lies. She wants to discuss the affair even further, but it’s all been said. There is nothing new to say.

Couple #2:

The wife is the cheater. Her husband is the victim. Presumably, he, too, is pissed. But in typical male fashion, the husband is ready to put the “episode” behind him and move on. Convinced that his wife is remorseful for her actions, he chooses not to discuss the affair anymore. In fact, he showers her with gifts and makes her feel loved. Eventually, they behave as though nothing happened. The past is the past, after all.

So I ask you, which couple is better off? The couple that’s still very much in turmoil nearly two years after the affair, or the couple that quickly buried the past? I have pondered this question a million times, and for the life of me, I can’t decide.

Here’s my thinking:

Couple #1 should be further along at this point. The wife’s continued interrogations are putting the marriage at risk. The husband wants to make amends and go back to loving his wife, but the more she pushes, the more distant he feels. If anything, the daily “beatings” make him long for the gentleness of his ex-lover. But they are putting everything on the table. Every aspect of the affair has been discussed in full. This allows both partners to process what happened, perhaps making their marriage stronger in the long-run.

Couple #2 has been living normally for a very long time, enjoying a peaceful marriage. Sure, the past comes up every now and then (I base this on common sense, not actual knowledge), but the affair seems like the distant past. The relationship has never been better, it seems. Really? Can the husband truly respect his wife when her feet have never been held to the flames? Are there questions in his mind that, by his own choosing, will never be answered, and will prevent him from ever seeing her as an equal partner? If she used her diagnosis of bipolar disorder as an excuse for cheating, will she ever be anything more than an unstable person in his eyes? And when he mounts her (if he ever does), will he feel disgust toward this flighty creature?

I’ve given up on trying to answer this question, the question that haunts me every time my wife-executioner lops off my balls with her sickle. I wonder how a woman who was equally complicit in our affair could be spared from the torment I’ve had to endure.

Is she lucky?  Or does her just punishment await her?

A Cheating Man’s Worst Fear.

Man cheats on wife. Man gets caught. He survives one-and-a-half years of hell. There are many ups and downs, but mostly downs. He knows if he just holds on, keeps his nose clean, he has a chance to save his marriage.

The only thing standing in the the way of this is his wife.

My wife. She can’t let it go. She can’t move past the pain of my betrayal. No amount of promises or assurances on my part can free her from the “certainty I” will betray again. We will never be able to move on as a couple until she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt I am no longer in contact with my former other woman.

This is what scares me the most.

I have nothing to hide where that’s concerned. All communication with my ex stopped months ago. Sure, I tried to keep it going. I couldn’t stand to let her go. And I thought I would die when she made it clear to me (with help from her husband) that there would be no more contact ever. Yet all these months later, my wife continues to suspect that OW and I are maintaining some sort of dialogue. I fear that when everyone least expects it, my wife will call her “just to make sure.”

Here’s the problem with that:

While there’s been no contact, my ex has a history of running her damned mouth. Saying too much. When a simple yes or no answer would suffice, OW manages to provide “extra detail.” Part of this stems from my wife’s superior interrogation skills for which OW has never been a match. By the time my wife finishes with her, OW is a Gitmo prisoner on sodium-pentathol.

But what could my ex possibly say?

Plenty.

Of first and foremost concern is the existence of this blog, which I suspect OW reads. Can you imagine my wife’s reaction if she were to read this blog, especially the early posts when I was pouring out my heart and soul? That’s the sort of information OW is known for providing, and it’s a question my detective-wife will ask.

“Tell me about his blogs. I know he has one. He told me he does, and he said the two of you have been leaving comments for each other. Don’t lie, or I will sue you in court!”

I can just hear it now.

Another fatal blow would be for OW to remind my wife that I was the one who couldn’t let go. This remains the number one sticking point in my marital recovery. The fact that I was “ready to cast my family aside” for this woman. I hear this every day. I will hear it for the rest of my life.

What my ex-lover needs to realize, if she hasn’t grasped the concept by now, is that my wife hates her to the very core and, if given the chance, would destroy her. Because at the end of the day, only one question lingers in my wife’s mind: Who is this woman who held such emotional power over my husband? For that, my wife will never forgive her.

It’s doubtful she will ever truly forgive me.

So I say to OW, wherever you are, here’s your chance to do something helpful for a change. That is, don’t do anything. Don’t say anything. Restrain yourself for once in your life. Just because your husband has turned a blind eye to the past doesn’t mean the same has happened here. I am a walking, talking, breathing reminder to my wife that someone other than her stole my heart.

As distant as you’ve become to me, you may still hold the key to my recovery.

If she calls.

Search Engine Terms That Led You Here. (What the Hell’s Wrong with Everyone?)

And now, another exciting installment of the search engine terms that led you to this blog! Just like in the past, our topics range from marital infidelity to bipolar disorder. This time, we have a few surprise twists.

How To Not Hate Your Cheating Husband – Well let’s see here.  Sounds like someone is dealing with a little “extra-curricular activity” in the family.  Sorry to hear this.  No really,  I mean it.  Men, for many reasons, are selfish, and are willing to throw it all away just to feed their own selfish desires.  How do you not hate them?  Please, if you figure that out, let me know.  I’ve been the subject of wife-hate for so long, I see forgiveness from my wife as the Holy Grail.  Maybe it really exists, maybe it doesn’t.

Sunbeam – I see you must’ve read my last post on the Sunbeam waffle maker.  I’ll tell you this much, Sunbeam makes a damn fine product!   I have no complaints with their waffle make line.  Of course, the bigger question is, how do you feel about your web habits, Googling mundane things like waffle makers?   I guess that makes you  a happily married “normal” person.

Bipolars Cheat – Now there’s an interesting topic.   Hmmm, let’s see.  Have bipolar people been known to get manicked-up and throw a little lovin’ our way?   Oh yeah!   But take it from an expert, if you’re the recipient of said-lovin,’ take it for what it’s worth:  Dick.   Any illusions you have that the lovin’ means something is just that.  An illusion.

Is Hide My Ass for Real? – Another interesting search term.  You web searchers are really on your game lately!  The answer to this question is, yes, hidemyass.com, the proxy site that allows you to visit blogs like this one anonymously, are absolutely real.   It’s perfect for people who want to read certain blogs, but for whatever FUCKED UP reason, don’t want the author to know.  So go ahead, turn yourself into a cockroach and hide your ass.  Just don’t be proud of yourself.

Bipolar Hotwife – Yes, yes.  I’ve heard of this before.  There are porn pages out there that market their women as bipolar hotties.  The idea, I suppose, is that because a woman is bipolar, she will fuck anything on two legs with no emotional attachment whatsoever.  Hmmm, wonder if this could be true?

That’s all for now, folks.  Keep Googling your way to this blog!   Until next time, keep those search terms coming.  Or should I say, cumming?

Caught Cheating on Your Spouse? Click Here.

I remember the first time I created a blog for the purpose of writing about my affair. My mind was racing with horrible thoughts. I figured it would help to write about it. Talk things through. I also remember worrying what people would say about my admission of adultery. Surely women would leave nasty comments. But what I found were people far more experienced in these matters. Good people who could offer real advice. So I ask myself, more than a year after my affair ended, have I learned enough to be able to offer advice to others?

Maybe.

I’m probably not the best person to ask for advice on the long-term effects of affairs. I’m still battling things out with my “injured” wife. The minute I think our marriage is getting better, I find out it isn’t. The damage runs so deep. But I could advise men –and perhaps even women—who’re fresh off the heels of an affair, and feel desperate.

For example:

You’re going to survive this. You may not think you’re going to survive, but you will. I am proof of that. No matter how explosive things have become at home, this is just the first stage. The “extreme reaction” stage. Things will calm down in a month or two (or three), but for now, you’re in for a rough ride. Remember, be a man, take your licks, don’t talk back, and for God’s stake, apologize! Do not –I repeat—do not try to justify your affair in any way. That’s “down the road” stuff, when you and your wife are in counseling talking things through. This is not the time to stand up for yourself. Your feelings and your opinion don’t matter at this point.

You’re going to survive this (part two). Let’s be clear about something. From here on out, your life sucks. You are fucked! All those nights and mornings and afternoons you spent dipping your wick in another woman’s wax must now be paid for at 1000% interest. Your days of relaxing at home are over. You will sleep in hotels. You will be struck physically by your wife on more than on occasion. Your phone records will be scrutinized. Your financial transactions will be investigated. Your computer privileges will be revoked for the foreseeable future. And those things are a drop in the bucket compared to the wrath of your family and friends. Your children will come to despise their daddy. Your in-laws will label you a piece of shit. And all your wife’s friends and co-workers will learn what a selfish, philandering pig you are. Do not assume that any of these things I have mentioned don’t apply to you. As I said, you’re fucked. But you will survive.

Your affair is over. You might as well skip this part, because no matter what I say, you’re not going to listen. Unless your other woman was a two-bit crack whore, you will not be able to resist the urge to make contact. That’s because you’re in love with that person, and love makes people do crazy things. But if your goal is to salvage what’s left of your marriage, contacting OW is the worst thing you can do. You see, what people in your situation don’t realize because you’re focused only on the present, it’s that one year from now you don’t want to be explaining why you tried to keep the affair going even after you got busted. Everything mistake you make from this point on will count against you, and your wife won’t forgive repeated mistakes.

Your former lover won’t lie for you anymore. This applies if your former other woman was the one who blabbed about the affair in the first place. These are the worst kind. Women who were happy to receive your “sexual gifts” when it was convenient for them. But now that they’re walking around bowlegged, and need your services no more, they will report you to their husband, or your wife, if you contact them for any reason. Don’t believe it? Then go ahead. Give it a try. Prove the tv explorer wrong. And when you’re sitting at home explaining to your wife why you broke your promise again, feel free to leave me a comment.

Your wife is not your enemy. I’m probably wasting breath on this item as well, because at this stage, you may hate your wife. Not HATE-hate, but extreme dislike, because she’s giving you so much grief right now. Plus, you’re probably blaming her for shutting down your affair, even if it wasn’t her fault you got caught. This is natural. Nearly all the adultery books I’ve read at Barnes & Noble say cheaters hold some type of grudge against their spouses. I did. I still do at times. But what you don’t realize is that your wife, if she hasn’t divorced you, is sticking around because she loves you. She wants to make your marriage work. Your biggest challenge now is getting over yourself, and realizing what your affair has done to her. The sooner you can do this, the sooner your marriage can begin to heal. (Don’t waste your energy on what’s-her-face.)

Your search for answers. Confused by how things turned out? Can’t understand why the affair ended like it did? That’s why we’re all here, brother, but I have to tell you, those answers don’t come easy. You may decide to start a blog and recount every detail of your affair. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll figure things out. But chances are, you won’t. Not really. Affairs are nothing more than a whisper in time, and your time has passed, whether you like it or not. You can keep looking back, or you can start to move forward. Your choice. No one else can make it for you. One more thing: If your ex-lover just happens to be bipolar, take it from an expert, don’t waste your time searching for answers. There are none. There is only this.

(Sorry Terri.)

An Adultery Blog Makeover.

I’ve had this in the back of my mind for some time, and now I’m going to act on it.  In the coming days, I’m going to make serious changes to this blog.  Less adultery-talk.  More…whatever.

The reasons for this are many.  First, I’m tired of writing about a woman who simply cannot be defined.  Because of that, my “search for answers” has proven fruitless.  More specifically, it’s been a waste of time.  The only thing that I’ve really concluded is that she is a waste of body, mind and spirit.   She’s gone.

Second, at the risk of sounding egotistical, I’ve got too much to offer in a writing-sense to piss it away writing about her.  There are other topics I want to pursue.  Other dreams worth dreaming aloud.  I love to write.  I love to create.  I want people to visit my blog because I’m interesting, not because I’m someone who fucked a married woman.

Third, this blog is starting to feel “dangerous.”  Recent events (detailed in my most recent posts) have made me suspect my anonymity has been blown.  Even if the culprit is just my former OW, that’s dangerous enough, given her mental instability.   She has surprised me every step of the way since our split.  The woman I knew no longer exists.

With that said, I will begin the process of removing my most incendiary posts.  Yes, I’ve raised a little hell on this blog.  I’ve said everything, short of naming names and locations.  But it doesn’t take a genius to start to piecing it all together.   I can’t afford to let that to happen.

I’m sure my ex will be relieved to see far fewer posts about her.  Oh sure, I will allude to our affair from time to time, if for no other reason to keep “Ms. Righting Wrongs” guessing.   And I’m sure she will remain one of my most loyal readers,  viewing each new post through a reader or anonymizer, just to hide her tracks.

I feel foolish having written so much about her.

Let the blog makeover begin.

Rest in Peace.

I guess she did read my blog.

And deleted hers.

(What in God’s green earth is her problem?)

Hide My Ass.

It’s amazing to me how far some people go to hide the fact they are reading my blog. I’m not talking about anyone in my small group of blog friends, or even casual web surfers who’re intrigued by the concept of adultery. I’m talking about people who, for whatever reason, use “web anonymizers” to view this blog.

Web whats?

Let me back up. For those who don’t know, I use SiteMeter and StatCounter on this blog to see who’s reading me. I can tell where you’re located, when you stopped by, how long you stayed and when you decided to check out. I can also see which Internet Service Provider you use, which browser you have and the type of operating system installed on your computer. I can even see your IP address, that odd string of numbers separated by periods.

And why do I need all this information? I don’t. I just enjoy seeing where my readers are from, and when they stop in. That’s all.

Getting back to my original subject.  That is, people who bend over backwards to keep themselves anonymous.  When I first noticed this, it struck me as odd.  But after the comment someone left here two days ago, I understand why.

Someone wrote something that was too familiar.  They included my real name and my wife’s real name.  It was a comment designed to fuck with me, and I’ll admit, it accomplished its goal.

So I dug deeply into my Sitemeter stats, and found they had accessed this blog using hidemyass.com.  It’s one of many free “anonymizers” on the web.  Simply type in an address and –voila!—you can visit a site without “leaving tracks.” My question is, why go to the trouble? If you got something to say, just say it.

My first suspicion was that my former other woman may’ve located my blog and lashed out in anger.  But that doesn’t make sense.  She’s not a mean-natured person.  That’s one thing I’ve always loved about her. Still, who else would know my real name?

My only other theory is that OW discovered my blog and brought it to her husband’s attention.  That’s how she rolls these days.  No sense of independence.  Yes sir. No sir. Can I iron your shirt?  But even that theory has holes in it.  Surely, her husband knows that if he fucks with me, it would constitute a violation of our “agreement,” which I’ve abided by to the enth degree.

For the record, I know the anonymous commenter wasn’t my wife. I can say this with 100% certainty. (We at tvexplorer have our methods!)

The truth is, I’ve suspected for some time that my ex reads my blog, which is fine.  It’s just the sneaking around part that grates on my nerves.  It’s like she’s worried that if I find out, I will think it means something and start writing love-letters again.   Think again.

Just stop hiding your ass.