I am sorry about that last post I made. The guy that I sent it to did not deserve such hostility from me. I hate making excuses, but that e-mail was a culmination of events that set me off.
Years ago, I was taken advantage of by an older Christian man that acted as a father figure of sorts. (No we did not have sexual intercourse.) Those memories all flooded back and my letter was really to that guy. Anyway, I want to apologize to L.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wednesday Nights
It is Wednesday night. When I was having an affair with Mark, Wednesday night was when we frequently met.
You know, that last paragraph has too many antiseptic euphemisms – words like “affair” and “met”. If I am going to face what I did, I need to keep it real. So I will rewrite that paragraph in a more honest manner.
It is Wednesday night. When I was committing adultery with Mark, Wednesday was the night when we snuck off and fucked.
We chose Wednesday nights, because I had the perfect excuse to be out of the house. Wednesday night was Bible study night at our church. I told my dear husband that I taught a class to teen girls. The lie was believable because I am a teacher at the school. (Committing adultery quickly teaches you how to be a lying whore.)
Wednesday evenings were always hectic. I had to race home, clean up the house, deal with the baby and my twin girls, and try to get dinner on the table so it would be ready when Jeff got home at around 6:00.
We would have a nice family dinner with four of us around the table and the baby in a highchair. As the spiritual leader of the home, Jeff would say grace and asked the Lord to bless my ministry tonight. I would secretly pray that the Lord would bless my orgasms tonight.
I know that sounds terrible and it is. I found that trying to be a good Christian woman while engaging in adultery creates an extreme form of cognitive dissonance. In psychological terms, I had to assume another personality. In spiritual terms I had to accept a demonic influence.
So when I looked at my young daughters at the table, I was able to smile and say silently in my head – “Be good for daddy. While Daddy is helping you with your homework and getting you ready for school the next day, Mommy will be spreading her legs for a strange man.”
Then I would look at my baby and think – “While the man that you think is your daddy is changing your diapers, I will be sucking your real daddy’s cock.”
After dinner I would hurry and shower and get dressed. I would change into a slutty bra and panties that were hidden under my conservative skirt and blouse.
I always kissed my husband goodbye and told him that I love him dearly.
On the highway I would drive past the church and head to the Hilton Hotel. My panties would be soaked by the time I arrived at the hotel. Mark would always have a hotel room key waiting for me at the front desk.
Over the weeks, the desk staff started to recognize me. For the first few weeks their smirks embarrassed me. They knew why I was there. And I could feel their eyes looking up and down my body.
At first the stares and leers of the front desk employees bothered me. But when I realized there was nothing I could do to avoid their leering eyes, I decided just to embrace it. Over the weeks I started to partially unbutton my blouse to show them my cleavage. At times I would show up wearing a sheer blouse without a bra. The guys at the front desk seemed to be very happy to come in. :-)
Usually Mark did not ejaculate inside of me. He would pull out and turn me around. I would watch as his semen splattered on my chest and drip down my breasts.
A shower was next on the agenda. Mark said this was important so I didn’t leave my smell on him. I would soap him up and clean him. By that time he was usually hard again, so I would get on my knees and give him oral sex. Once I tasted his warm semen in my mouth, I would swallow. And that ended the shower.
There was little after sex talk. There never was any cuddling. We simply dressed and left. This routine continued week after week with very little variation.
When I got home the kids were usually asleep. Jeff was always up waiting for me even though he had to work the following morning. If I was real late I made up an excuse that I had to counsel some girl in a private session. Jeff was always amazed at my dedication.
When I walked through the front door I would always give Jeff and long and deep kiss. The thought that he might taste some of Mark’s semen amused me.
You know, that last paragraph has too many antiseptic euphemisms – words like “affair” and “met”. If I am going to face what I did, I need to keep it real. So I will rewrite that paragraph in a more honest manner.
It is Wednesday night. When I was committing adultery with Mark, Wednesday was the night when we snuck off and fucked.
We chose Wednesday nights, because I had the perfect excuse to be out of the house. Wednesday night was Bible study night at our church. I told my dear husband that I taught a class to teen girls. The lie was believable because I am a teacher at the school. (Committing adultery quickly teaches you how to be a lying whore.)
Wednesday evenings were always hectic. I had to race home, clean up the house, deal with the baby and my twin girls, and try to get dinner on the table so it would be ready when Jeff got home at around 6:00.
We would have a nice family dinner with four of us around the table and the baby in a highchair. As the spiritual leader of the home, Jeff would say grace and asked the Lord to bless my ministry tonight. I would secretly pray that the Lord would bless my orgasms tonight.
I know that sounds terrible and it is. I found that trying to be a good Christian woman while engaging in adultery creates an extreme form of cognitive dissonance. In psychological terms, I had to assume another personality. In spiritual terms I had to accept a demonic influence.
So when I looked at my young daughters at the table, I was able to smile and say silently in my head – “Be good for daddy. While Daddy is helping you with your homework and getting you ready for school the next day, Mommy will be spreading her legs for a strange man.”
Then I would look at my baby and think – “While the man that you think is your daddy is changing your diapers, I will be sucking your real daddy’s cock.”
After dinner I would hurry and shower and get dressed. I would change into a slutty bra and panties that were hidden under my conservative skirt and blouse.
I always kissed my husband goodbye and told him that I love him dearly.
On the highway I would drive past the church and head to the Hilton Hotel. My panties would be soaked by the time I arrived at the hotel. Mark would always have a hotel room key waiting for me at the front desk.
Over the weeks, the desk staff started to recognize me. For the first few weeks their smirks embarrassed me. They knew why I was there. And I could feel their eyes looking up and down my body.
At first the stares and leers of the front desk employees bothered me. But when I realized there was nothing I could do to avoid their leering eyes, I decided just to embrace it. Over the weeks I started to partially unbutton my blouse to show them my cleavage. At times I would show up wearing a sheer blouse without a bra. The guys at the front desk seemed to be very happy to come in. :-)
I always arrived at the room before Mark. While Mark could be nice, he frequently was violent when he got upset. And waiting for anything upset Mark.
While waiting for Mark I would read the Bible. In my mind I figured that this would allow me to be telling the truth when I told Jeff I was at Bible Study.
I never knew when Mark would arrive. Sometimes I only had to wait 5 minutes. Other times I would have for hours. On a few occasions he did not show at all. He never bothered to call one way or the other. That would be a courtesy he didn’t think he had to extend to me.
When Mark did arrive, we followed a set pattern. I would pour Mark a drink of Scotch as he settled in a chair. Invariably he was on the phone with someone talking business. I would massage his shoulders as he talked on the phone.
When he was through with business, we rarely spoke. We had nothing much to say to each other. He would tell me to undress. He would watch me strip as he sipped his drink. When I was naked I would stand in front of him and offer him a breast to suck. He was never gentle. It usually hurt, but it also felt good. When he was done sucking my breasts he would sit back in his chair. I would get on my knees and unzip his pants and start to suck his large cock.
Invariably that is when he would make a call to his wife, Lisa. While I was sucking his cock, he would tell her that he was working late. And that he loved her. And that he missed her.
When the call was over that was my cue to get face down on the carpet. I would close my eyes and wait in anticipation. Usually I would not have to wait long until I felt his cock enter me. He was never gentle or tender. He always fucked me hard in the doggy style position.
Mark has incredible stamina. While my husband is lucky to last two minutes, Mark would frequently fuck me hard for an hour. I usually reached multiple orgasms. As hard as I tried to maintain control, I would invariable end up shaking, moaning, screaming and crying.
While waiting for Mark I would read the Bible. In my mind I figured that this would allow me to be telling the truth when I told Jeff I was at Bible Study.
I never knew when Mark would arrive. Sometimes I only had to wait 5 minutes. Other times I would have for hours. On a few occasions he did not show at all. He never bothered to call one way or the other. That would be a courtesy he didn’t think he had to extend to me.
When Mark did arrive, we followed a set pattern. I would pour Mark a drink of Scotch as he settled in a chair. Invariably he was on the phone with someone talking business. I would massage his shoulders as he talked on the phone.
When he was through with business, we rarely spoke. We had nothing much to say to each other. He would tell me to undress. He would watch me strip as he sipped his drink. When I was naked I would stand in front of him and offer him a breast to suck. He was never gentle. It usually hurt, but it also felt good. When he was done sucking my breasts he would sit back in his chair. I would get on my knees and unzip his pants and start to suck his large cock.
Invariably that is when he would make a call to his wife, Lisa. While I was sucking his cock, he would tell her that he was working late. And that he loved her. And that he missed her.
When the call was over that was my cue to get face down on the carpet. I would close my eyes and wait in anticipation. Usually I would not have to wait long until I felt his cock enter me. He was never gentle or tender. He always fucked me hard in the doggy style position.
Mark has incredible stamina. While my husband is lucky to last two minutes, Mark would frequently fuck me hard for an hour. I usually reached multiple orgasms. As hard as I tried to maintain control, I would invariable end up shaking, moaning, screaming and crying.
Usually Mark did not ejaculate inside of me. He would pull out and turn me around. I would watch as his semen splattered on my chest and drip down my breasts.
A shower was next on the agenda. Mark said this was important so I didn’t leave my smell on him. I would soap him up and clean him. By that time he was usually hard again, so I would get on my knees and give him oral sex. Once I tasted his warm semen in my mouth, I would swallow. And that ended the shower.
There was little after sex talk. There never was any cuddling. We simply dressed and left. This routine continued week after week with very little variation.
When I got home the kids were usually asleep. Jeff was always up waiting for me even though he had to work the following morning. If I was real late I made up an excuse that I had to counsel some girl in a private session. Jeff was always amazed at my dedication.
When I walked through the front door I would always give Jeff and long and deep kiss. The thought that he might taste some of Mark’s semen amused me.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
My Secret Crush
I first saw him in a Starbucks two weeks ago as I was getting my morning coffee before school. The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. He had to be 6’4”. He was dressed in what looked to be a tailor suit. He looked to be a clean cut business man in his 30s. His hair was blonde and his skin was fair. My heart started to pitter-patter like I was a school girl with a crush. He was beautiful.
The next morning I decided to get another coffee at the same time. Spending money on a Starbucks coffee seems like a silly indulgence in the best of times. But with my husband out of a job, I knew I had to count my pennies. But, then again, since I am making the money I deserve a little indulgence from time to time.
When I arrived the next morning, he just happened to be sitting at a table with his coffee and a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He was talking on his cell phone.
I got my coffee and sat at a table across from him. I had a little time before I had to be at school. And I could use the time to look at my lesson plan. So I pulled out my lesson plan and tried to focus on it. But for some reason my eyes kept darting up to this beautiful man.
In my mind I tried to guess who he was and what he did. I knew he was successful. And he wore a wedding ring. Was he happily married? Did he have children? These were the questions that went through my mind.
I also had more erotic questions. What did he look like naked? What would his cock feel like inside me?
For two weeks he was my morning eye candy. My secret crush. He was always so involved with his work, I figured he never noticed me.
Yesterday morning I looked up from my papers, and I saw that he was looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes. Our eyes briefly met. I felt myself blush and I looked down. Damn it, why do I have to be so shy?
Last night I could not sleep as my husband was snoring loudly. And my thoughts were on that beautiful blonde haired man. I imagined him taking me by the hand and whisking me away to a hotel room. I imagined his tongue running down my naked body. Sleep did not come for hours.
This morning my angel was there again. Unlike my dreams, he did not take me by my hand and whisk me away. But he did glance at me! A few minutes later he picked up his paper and walked out talking on his phone.
I am too shy to ever say anything. So he will always just be my secret crush. But that is OK. It makes my mornings happy.
The next morning I decided to get another coffee at the same time. Spending money on a Starbucks coffee seems like a silly indulgence in the best of times. But with my husband out of a job, I knew I had to count my pennies. But, then again, since I am making the money I deserve a little indulgence from time to time.
When I arrived the next morning, he just happened to be sitting at a table with his coffee and a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He was talking on his cell phone.
I got my coffee and sat at a table across from him. I had a little time before I had to be at school. And I could use the time to look at my lesson plan. So I pulled out my lesson plan and tried to focus on it. But for some reason my eyes kept darting up to this beautiful man.
In my mind I tried to guess who he was and what he did. I knew he was successful. And he wore a wedding ring. Was he happily married? Did he have children? These were the questions that went through my mind.
I also had more erotic questions. What did he look like naked? What would his cock feel like inside me?
For two weeks he was my morning eye candy. My secret crush. He was always so involved with his work, I figured he never noticed me.
Yesterday morning I looked up from my papers, and I saw that he was looking at me with his beautiful blue eyes. Our eyes briefly met. I felt myself blush and I looked down. Damn it, why do I have to be so shy?
Last night I could not sleep as my husband was snoring loudly. And my thoughts were on that beautiful blonde haired man. I imagined him taking me by the hand and whisking me away to a hotel room. I imagined his tongue running down my naked body. Sleep did not come for hours.
This morning my angel was there again. Unlike my dreams, he did not take me by my hand and whisk me away. But he did glance at me! A few minutes later he picked up his paper and walked out talking on his phone.
I am too shy to ever say anything. So he will always just be my secret crush. But that is OK. It makes my mornings happy.
Late Night Text Messaging
me: Mark. You have a sec, we need to talk.
Markxxxxx: hey, look who is there! Do I know you?
me: I am not in the mood to play games. Do you have a minute to talk?
Markxxxxx: Not really. Why don’t you give me a ring?
me: no… we can talk on here. I don’t want to hear your voice.
Markxxxxx: well, I guess you are out of luck. Cause I need to run.
me: quit being such an asshole. Just give me 10 mins.
Markxxxxx: I will give you 5 mins. Better get talking.
me: Yeah, I know you are so busy. XXXXX’s birthday was last week. And you didn’t even send a card.
Markxxxxx: YOU told me you wanted me out of your and his life. Remember? So why the fuck are you now talking to me?
me: Jesus… he is your son! You have no feelings for him?
Markxxxxx: And how do I know he is mine? Maybe he is not.
me: You are such a fucking asshole. Really, you are the one person in this world that I truly hate.
Markxxxxx: Awwww… I love it how you sweet talk me.
me: Anyway, forget it. I was stupid. I thought you might care that your son is facing a financial disaster. Thanks to you.
Markxxxxx: You are right. I don’t care. And how is your financial disaster my fault?
me: You know why. You got rid of Jeff once I broke it off between us.
Markxxxxx: Jeff is a useless slug. That had nothing to do with us.
me: That is bullshit, and you know it is.
Markxxxxx: I don’t have to explain myself to you. What is it you want from me?
me: I want you to show some decency and hire Jeff back.
Markxxxxx: Not going to happen.
me: I am not asking you to do it for Jeff or me. Just do it for your son.
Markxxxxx: I already told you No. Are you done?
me: Mark, please. I never have asked anything from you. I think I have been more than accommodating over the years based on our situation. You don’t understand what I bad situation I am in. Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?
Markxxxxx: I have rather fond memories of you on your knees.
me: I guess it is pointless to talk to you.
Markxxxxx: I tell you what. Let’s hook up for drinks next week and we can discuss this more in detail. I can’t make any promises but I will see what I can do.
me: You know I can’t see you anymore.
Markxxxxx: Then I guess our conversation is over.
Markxxxxx: hey, look who is there! Do I know you?
me: I am not in the mood to play games. Do you have a minute to talk?
Markxxxxx: Not really. Why don’t you give me a ring?
me: no… we can talk on here. I don’t want to hear your voice.
Markxxxxx: well, I guess you are out of luck. Cause I need to run.
me: quit being such an asshole. Just give me 10 mins.
Markxxxxx: I will give you 5 mins. Better get talking.
me: Yeah, I know you are so busy. XXXXX’s birthday was last week. And you didn’t even send a card.
Markxxxxx: YOU told me you wanted me out of your and his life. Remember? So why the fuck are you now talking to me?
me: Jesus… he is your son! You have no feelings for him?
Markxxxxx: And how do I know he is mine? Maybe he is not.
me: You are such a fucking asshole. Really, you are the one person in this world that I truly hate.
Markxxxxx: Awwww… I love it how you sweet talk me.
me: Anyway, forget it. I was stupid. I thought you might care that your son is facing a financial disaster. Thanks to you.
Markxxxxx: You are right. I don’t care. And how is your financial disaster my fault?
me: You know why. You got rid of Jeff once I broke it off between us.
Markxxxxx: Jeff is a useless slug. That had nothing to do with us.
me: That is bullshit, and you know it is.
Markxxxxx: I don’t have to explain myself to you. What is it you want from me?
me: I want you to show some decency and hire Jeff back.
Markxxxxx: Not going to happen.
me: I am not asking you to do it for Jeff or me. Just do it for your son.
Markxxxxx: I already told you No. Are you done?
me: Mark, please. I never have asked anything from you. I think I have been more than accommodating over the years based on our situation. You don’t understand what I bad situation I am in. Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?
Markxxxxx: I have rather fond memories of you on your knees.
me: I guess it is pointless to talk to you.
Markxxxxx: I tell you what. Let’s hook up for drinks next week and we can discuss this more in detail. I can’t make any promises but I will see what I can do.
me: You know I can’t see you anymore.
Markxxxxx: Then I guess our conversation is over.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Late Night Random Thoughts
- I shouldn’t read sex blogs. Just frustrates me.
- I have only had sex with two men in my life
- It has been 5 months since I have had sex
- I can’t stand my husband
- I need to stop blogging. I screwed up and used a real first name.
- I feel I have wasted most of my life
- I feel trapped
- My fantasy is to have sex with a stranger
- Men notice my breasts and I like it… sometimes
- I wish I didn’t have so much guilt
- I miss Mark
- I hate Mark
- I like tall men
- I like older men
- I love Pastor Karl in a way that is hard to explain
- I over analyze everything
- I don’t think anyone loves me in the world
- God no longer speaks to me
- I blush easily
- I am a natural red head
- Fall is my favorite season
- My favorite sexual position is doggy style
- People say I need to eat more
- I have only had sex with two men in my life
- It has been 5 months since I have had sex
- I can’t stand my husband
- I need to stop blogging. I screwed up and used a real first name.
- I feel I have wasted most of my life
- I feel trapped
- My fantasy is to have sex with a stranger
- Men notice my breasts and I like it… sometimes
- I wish I didn’t have so much guilt
- I miss Mark
- I hate Mark
- I like tall men
- I like older men
- I love Pastor Karl in a way that is hard to explain
- I over analyze everything
- I don’t think anyone loves me in the world
- God no longer speaks to me
- I blush easily
- I am a natural red head
- Fall is my favorite season
- My favorite sexual position is doggy style
- People say I need to eat more
In Defense of Pastor Karl
This was originally a response to Hosea in the comments section to the post below. But as it grew quite lengthy, I thought I would just make it a post. I feel I need to do this because I am worried I am how showing Pastor Karl (not his real name) in the proper light. Anyway, here was my response.
Part of the issue is that I see the world in both secular and spiritual terms. And many times the spiritual seems unreasonable or even crazy to those who have a different faith or world view.
If I should view the incident with Pastor Karl through a secular lens, I agree that his actions were inappropriate. I understand the proper counseling protocol. And if such a thing happened with another counselor (such as with the associate pastor) I would have immediately reported it. I am hardly a weak woman.
I did attend the traditional counseling and it was quite proper and professional. However, it was not effective. And I believe it was not effective because I was dealing with a spiritual, not a psychological, issue.
A little background – Pastor Karl has been my spiritual father since I was a teenager. Though his influence and teachers I was able to avoid the temptation of sex and drugs. How many other girls can say that?
My entire university costs were covered by a church scholarship. When I graduated, Pastor Karl was generous enough to have a teaching position for me. I owe much of my success in life to him.
And how do I thank him? I have an illicit affair that threatens to embarrass the entire church and school. Pastor Karl did not cause me to have that affair. That was my choice.
When I revealed my sin to the Church I knew I was taking a risk. Based on my contract the school is well within its rights to terminate me based on a morals clause. I am sure that would have been the easiest and safest choice. But Pastor Karl and his staff decided to work with me and not throw me out on the street. Such an action would have left my family with NO income.
And did Pastor Karl initially choose to see me? No. If his motive was sexual, he could have easily scheduled a meeting with me immediately. But instead I went through traditional counseling. Was it Pastor Karl’s fault that counseling was not effective? No. It was my own hard heartedness.
When I cancelled my remaining sessions, the school again was within its rights to get rid of me. Part of my agreement to stay on after the revelation of my sin was that I would attend mandatory counseling. I did not uphold my end of the agreement.
Showing the patience of Job, Pastor Karl still did not give up on me. He agreed to oversee my fasting and prayer regiment personally. He is a busy man with many important responsibilities, but he cared enough about me to spend time with me.
Now comes some more spiritual stuff that may seem strange to people of another faith. But I was raised believing in literal angles and demons. So while this may seem whacky to some people, it is real to me.
I believe that my sexual sin opened the door for me coming under demonic influence. And, no, I don’t mean I was possessed like the girl in the Exorcist. But I do believe demonic forces influenced my thinking and actions.
Pastor Karl is a great man of God. He has done much to expand God’s kingdom. As such, such a man will frequently receive attacks from the Devil, with the goal to destroy or discredit his ministry.
In hindsight, I believe that I was a pawn in Satan’s plan to attack Pastor Karl. Even Mark’s initial violation of me might have been part of the greater overall plan, knowing that it would lead to me tempting Pastor Karl three years in the future.
So when I entered his office, I was not a “helpless” woman. I believe I was lead there to destroy Pastor Karl and his ministry. I was the serpent, not the victim.
Of course, I was temporarily blinded at the time. I honestly did not see the underlying motivation for my actions. For example, why did I choose to wear a sheer blouse? What did I choose to wear a short skirt? Why did I choose not to wear panties? I NEVER dress like that. I always dress very modestly. And yet I chose to dress like that without even being consciously aware of what I was doing. That can only be explained through the spiritual.
So when I had my “breakthrough” and claimed to be delivered from lust, Pastor Karl could see through my self-delusion. Instead of arguing the point with me (which would have been pointless), he decided to give me a test so I could see my self-delusion with my own eyes.
And what better way to show me my folly than to start to unbutton my blouse. For if I had been truly set free from lust, I would have immediately jumped up and stopped him. But I sat on my knees passively without objection as I allowed a married man to unbuttoned my blouse. And each button that was removed illustrated how far I was from God. When my blouse dropped to the floor, I no longer had any illusions.
And his asking me to remove my bra was not an attempt to get a cheap sexual thrill, but to force me to “get real” about my situation. I could have put my blouse back on and imagined myself to be a sweet, innocent girl who was taken advantaged by the mean, old man. That would have been the easy action to take. Instead he challenged my faith.
I am reminded of the story in which God asked Abraham to go up the mountain and prepare to sacrifice his only son Isaac. Sometimes we may be asked to do things that initially do not make sense, but we need faith.
So it was an act of faith when I removed my bra. Immediately my eyes were opened of the demonic nature of my actions. I was no longer self-deluded. Satan has sent me there to seduce Pastor Karl. I fully expected and wanted him to fuck me at that moment. My nipples were erect because I was in a hyper-sexual state.
And yet he resisted the temptation. How many men in such a situation would have done that? Not many.
So Pastor Karl did not degrade me. He simply showed how Satan had degraded me.
My respect and admiration for Pastor Karl is hard to describe. He is the only one in this world that I trust completely.
Part of the issue is that I see the world in both secular and spiritual terms. And many times the spiritual seems unreasonable or even crazy to those who have a different faith or world view.
If I should view the incident with Pastor Karl through a secular lens, I agree that his actions were inappropriate. I understand the proper counseling protocol. And if such a thing happened with another counselor (such as with the associate pastor) I would have immediately reported it. I am hardly a weak woman.
I did attend the traditional counseling and it was quite proper and professional. However, it was not effective. And I believe it was not effective because I was dealing with a spiritual, not a psychological, issue.
A little background – Pastor Karl has been my spiritual father since I was a teenager. Though his influence and teachers I was able to avoid the temptation of sex and drugs. How many other girls can say that?
My entire university costs were covered by a church scholarship. When I graduated, Pastor Karl was generous enough to have a teaching position for me. I owe much of my success in life to him.
And how do I thank him? I have an illicit affair that threatens to embarrass the entire church and school. Pastor Karl did not cause me to have that affair. That was my choice.
When I revealed my sin to the Church I knew I was taking a risk. Based on my contract the school is well within its rights to terminate me based on a morals clause. I am sure that would have been the easiest and safest choice. But Pastor Karl and his staff decided to work with me and not throw me out on the street. Such an action would have left my family with NO income.
And did Pastor Karl initially choose to see me? No. If his motive was sexual, he could have easily scheduled a meeting with me immediately. But instead I went through traditional counseling. Was it Pastor Karl’s fault that counseling was not effective? No. It was my own hard heartedness.
When I cancelled my remaining sessions, the school again was within its rights to get rid of me. Part of my agreement to stay on after the revelation of my sin was that I would attend mandatory counseling. I did not uphold my end of the agreement.
Showing the patience of Job, Pastor Karl still did not give up on me. He agreed to oversee my fasting and prayer regiment personally. He is a busy man with many important responsibilities, but he cared enough about me to spend time with me.
Now comes some more spiritual stuff that may seem strange to people of another faith. But I was raised believing in literal angles and demons. So while this may seem whacky to some people, it is real to me.
I believe that my sexual sin opened the door for me coming under demonic influence. And, no, I don’t mean I was possessed like the girl in the Exorcist. But I do believe demonic forces influenced my thinking and actions.
Pastor Karl is a great man of God. He has done much to expand God’s kingdom. As such, such a man will frequently receive attacks from the Devil, with the goal to destroy or discredit his ministry.
In hindsight, I believe that I was a pawn in Satan’s plan to attack Pastor Karl. Even Mark’s initial violation of me might have been part of the greater overall plan, knowing that it would lead to me tempting Pastor Karl three years in the future.
So when I entered his office, I was not a “helpless” woman. I believe I was lead there to destroy Pastor Karl and his ministry. I was the serpent, not the victim.
Of course, I was temporarily blinded at the time. I honestly did not see the underlying motivation for my actions. For example, why did I choose to wear a sheer blouse? What did I choose to wear a short skirt? Why did I choose not to wear panties? I NEVER dress like that. I always dress very modestly. And yet I chose to dress like that without even being consciously aware of what I was doing. That can only be explained through the spiritual.
So when I had my “breakthrough” and claimed to be delivered from lust, Pastor Karl could see through my self-delusion. Instead of arguing the point with me (which would have been pointless), he decided to give me a test so I could see my self-delusion with my own eyes.
And what better way to show me my folly than to start to unbutton my blouse. For if I had been truly set free from lust, I would have immediately jumped up and stopped him. But I sat on my knees passively without objection as I allowed a married man to unbuttoned my blouse. And each button that was removed illustrated how far I was from God. When my blouse dropped to the floor, I no longer had any illusions.
And his asking me to remove my bra was not an attempt to get a cheap sexual thrill, but to force me to “get real” about my situation. I could have put my blouse back on and imagined myself to be a sweet, innocent girl who was taken advantaged by the mean, old man. That would have been the easy action to take. Instead he challenged my faith.
I am reminded of the story in which God asked Abraham to go up the mountain and prepare to sacrifice his only son Isaac. Sometimes we may be asked to do things that initially do not make sense, but we need faith.
So it was an act of faith when I removed my bra. Immediately my eyes were opened of the demonic nature of my actions. I was no longer self-deluded. Satan has sent me there to seduce Pastor Karl. I fully expected and wanted him to fuck me at that moment. My nipples were erect because I was in a hyper-sexual state.
And yet he resisted the temptation. How many men in such a situation would have done that? Not many.
So Pastor Karl did not degrade me. He simply showed how Satan had degraded me.
My respect and admiration for Pastor Karl is hard to describe. He is the only one in this world that I trust completely.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Faith and Temptation
I have discovered that nothing can shake the notion of the type of person you are than committing adultery. And adultery is one of the most selfish acts a person can commit. Obviously adultery is a violation of your spouse, but it also a violation of many more people. When you fuck another married man, you are also metaphorically fucking over your husband, your kids, the other man’s wife and his kids. In many ways a physical assault would be more kind than breaching a marriage vow.
A little background
I was raised in an evangelic Christian environment. I attended a Christian school. And I was a “good” girl. I was devout in my faith and I was active in choir and the youth ministries.
I was a virgin when I married at the age of 22. While I know that is unusual, I believed that sex belonged only in marriage.
Sex with my husband was never passionate or frequent. But I did not care. Sex was not important to me. Only love was important and I found that in my husband.
Then when Mark violated me at the Christmas party, something snapped inside of me. It was as if I lost God and I became demonically possessed. In my mind I struggled with lust. And that was eventually manifested with my affair with Mark.
As I wrote previously, I don’t know why I was so sexually attracted to Mark. In many ways I really hate the man. He is not loving. He is not kind. He is not considerate. He abused me both physically and emotionally.
Mark constantly mocked my faith. And he gained sadistic pleasure in urging me to do things that further degraded me. Maybe I will gain the courage to blog about some of these depravities. What disturbed me was that I willing participated in such activities. I am not sure God can ever forgive me.
Counseling
In an attempt to redeem my soul, I attended spiritual counseling at my church. (I need to be careful I don’t reveal too many details on this blog. So I will attempt to be as vague as possible so people won’t be able to figure out the church.)
I attend a mega church. The church also has an associated school. I teach at the school. When I was a child, I attended the church and the school (it was smaller back then.)
As such, this Church has been my spiritual family since I was a child. The head pastor has been there since I was in high school 20 years ago. He was the man that married Jeff and me. He is very well known in the community and admired as a man of Faith and Conviction. He has been blessed with a large family of kids and grandkids.
An associated pastor was assigned to my counseling. I was assured it would be treated with strict confidentiality as I teach at the school. So I gathered up my courage and made my first appointment.
I explained my fears that I had lost my salvation. I also admitted that I had been unfaithful. I was too shy to provide details as to the depths I had fallen.
I attended five sessions, but I did not see much progress. The counselor was OK, but he seemed to just say the usual platitudes. I got discouraged and told the counselor that I would cancel the remaining sessions. Then Pastor Karl (not his real name) called me. He asked if I was filling to go through a special prayer and fasting regiment. Of course, I said yes.
Pastor Karl
Pastor Karl was always a spiritual father to me since I knew him when I was in High School. Throughout the years I have known him as a dynamic and charismatic speaker and leader. I always thought he was the most spiritual in tune man on Earth. He had a natural ability to comfort and motivate people. While other people may idolize movie stars, I idolized Pastor Karl.
A year ago the pastor and his wife celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Some of their children now work for the church and the school. And they have many grandkids. The perfect family.
So I was honored when Pastor Karl asked to oversee my prayer and fasting session. For those of you not familiar with the faith, my church believes that prayer and fasting can be very powerful in combating certain obsessions.
"This kind of demonic problem does not go out except by prayer and fasting." – Mathew 17:21
To be most effective, the five day water fast needs to be conducted with constant prayer and meditation. As I was on summer vacation (and Jeff was out of a job) I was able to dedicate those five days and nights to prayer. I REALLY wanted to be delivered from my lust of Mark.
I arrived at Pastor’s Karl’s office at Noon on Saturday. From what I have heard, these prayer sessions usually last 2 or 3 hours.
Well, I prayed for 3 hours and I felt nothing. I could not feel God speaking to me. During this whole time Pastor Karl was beside me. I felt guilty keeping him so long, but he told me not to worry that we will pray as long as needed. The day quickly turned dark. The only breaks I took were for the bathroom to freshen up.
Night came and I could hear the maintenance staff cleaning up and locking the doors. But I still did not feel moved by God. I was growing anxious with my lack of progress.
Pastor Karl encouraged me not to worry about the time and continue in prayer. He said he would stay with me if it took all night to get the breakthrough.
At 11:17 P.M. (there was a digital clock on his desk) the breakthrough came. While on my knees praying I felt God’s love pour through me. I knew I had been redeemed. I broke into uncontrollable sobs and placed my head in Pastor Karl’s lap. He stroked my hair in a loving manner. I knew everything was right in the world. I told him God had redeemed me and I was now free from the temptation of lust.
Then he kissed my gently on the forehead, smiled and unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. At first it did not register what he was doing. In a nonchalant manner he continued to unbutton my blouse as I kneeled before him.
As each button was opened, it was as if a hole was punctured in a water balloon. I could feel years of faith pouring out of my soul. How could a man that I trusted completely over the years violate me in such a manner? When he unbuttoned the last button he removed my blouse. As my blouse fell to the carpet, I could feel God being removed.
A little background
I was raised in an evangelic Christian environment. I attended a Christian school. And I was a “good” girl. I was devout in my faith and I was active in choir and the youth ministries.
I was a virgin when I married at the age of 22. While I know that is unusual, I believed that sex belonged only in marriage.
Sex with my husband was never passionate or frequent. But I did not care. Sex was not important to me. Only love was important and I found that in my husband.
Then when Mark violated me at the Christmas party, something snapped inside of me. It was as if I lost God and I became demonically possessed. In my mind I struggled with lust. And that was eventually manifested with my affair with Mark.
As I wrote previously, I don’t know why I was so sexually attracted to Mark. In many ways I really hate the man. He is not loving. He is not kind. He is not considerate. He abused me both physically and emotionally.
Mark constantly mocked my faith. And he gained sadistic pleasure in urging me to do things that further degraded me. Maybe I will gain the courage to blog about some of these depravities. What disturbed me was that I willing participated in such activities. I am not sure God can ever forgive me.
Counseling
In an attempt to redeem my soul, I attended spiritual counseling at my church. (I need to be careful I don’t reveal too many details on this blog. So I will attempt to be as vague as possible so people won’t be able to figure out the church.)
I attend a mega church. The church also has an associated school. I teach at the school. When I was a child, I attended the church and the school (it was smaller back then.)
As such, this Church has been my spiritual family since I was a child. The head pastor has been there since I was in high school 20 years ago. He was the man that married Jeff and me. He is very well known in the community and admired as a man of Faith and Conviction. He has been blessed with a large family of kids and grandkids.
An associated pastor was assigned to my counseling. I was assured it would be treated with strict confidentiality as I teach at the school. So I gathered up my courage and made my first appointment.
I explained my fears that I had lost my salvation. I also admitted that I had been unfaithful. I was too shy to provide details as to the depths I had fallen.
I attended five sessions, but I did not see much progress. The counselor was OK, but he seemed to just say the usual platitudes. I got discouraged and told the counselor that I would cancel the remaining sessions. Then Pastor Karl (not his real name) called me. He asked if I was filling to go through a special prayer and fasting regiment. Of course, I said yes.
Pastor Karl
Pastor Karl was always a spiritual father to me since I knew him when I was in High School. Throughout the years I have known him as a dynamic and charismatic speaker and leader. I always thought he was the most spiritual in tune man on Earth. He had a natural ability to comfort and motivate people. While other people may idolize movie stars, I idolized Pastor Karl.
A year ago the pastor and his wife celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. Some of their children now work for the church and the school. And they have many grandkids. The perfect family.
So I was honored when Pastor Karl asked to oversee my prayer and fasting session. For those of you not familiar with the faith, my church believes that prayer and fasting can be very powerful in combating certain obsessions.
"This kind of demonic problem does not go out except by prayer and fasting." – Mathew 17:21
To be most effective, the five day water fast needs to be conducted with constant prayer and meditation. As I was on summer vacation (and Jeff was out of a job) I was able to dedicate those five days and nights to prayer. I REALLY wanted to be delivered from my lust of Mark.
I arrived at Pastor’s Karl’s office at Noon on Saturday. From what I have heard, these prayer sessions usually last 2 or 3 hours.
Well, I prayed for 3 hours and I felt nothing. I could not feel God speaking to me. During this whole time Pastor Karl was beside me. I felt guilty keeping him so long, but he told me not to worry that we will pray as long as needed. The day quickly turned dark. The only breaks I took were for the bathroom to freshen up.
Night came and I could hear the maintenance staff cleaning up and locking the doors. But I still did not feel moved by God. I was growing anxious with my lack of progress.
Pastor Karl encouraged me not to worry about the time and continue in prayer. He said he would stay with me if it took all night to get the breakthrough.
At 11:17 P.M. (there was a digital clock on his desk) the breakthrough came. While on my knees praying I felt God’s love pour through me. I knew I had been redeemed. I broke into uncontrollable sobs and placed my head in Pastor Karl’s lap. He stroked my hair in a loving manner. I knew everything was right in the world. I told him God had redeemed me and I was now free from the temptation of lust.
Then he kissed my gently on the forehead, smiled and unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. At first it did not register what he was doing. In a nonchalant manner he continued to unbutton my blouse as I kneeled before him.
As each button was opened, it was as if a hole was punctured in a water balloon. I could feel years of faith pouring out of my soul. How could a man that I trusted completely over the years violate me in such a manner? When he unbuttoned the last button he removed my blouse. As my blouse fell to the carpet, I could feel God being removed.
I was on my knees before him wearing only a bra on top. I will always remember this conversation,
Pastor Karl: Why did you let me remove your blouse?
Me: I don’t know.
Pastor Karl: I believe it is because Satan sent you here to tempt me as he sent Bathsheba to tempt David.
Me: No! I love God. I want his forgiveness.
Pastor Karl: If you loved God you wouldn’t use your body to tempt me. And you have always deliberately tempted men with your body since you were a student here.
Me: No. I just want to do good and be good.
Pastor Karl: Well, we both know that is a lie. You are an adulterer. And you came in my office dressed immodestly with a sheer blouse. I could see your bra through that blouse.
We are all sinners. And I don’t expect perfect people to be on my staff. But I don’t tolerate liars.
You have two choices. 1) You can be a liar and put your blouse back on and claim you love God. 2) Or you can be honest and remove your bra. And admit Satan sent you here to seduce me.
I wanted more than anything to put by blouse back on. And I did love God. I wanted to be a good and moral person. But was I lying to myself?
I thought of all I had done in past few years - the lies, the sexual immorality with Mark. In a moment of sudden clarity I realized Pastor Karl was right, I was depraved. Satan was leading me.
But I did not want to seduce Pastor Karl. He was my spiritual father for all this years. I admired his leadership and charisma. But I never thought of him sexually. Or did I?
I looked up at the face of Pastor Karl. I had known that face for 20 years. He was now in his 60s and slightly balding. While not particularly handsome, he radiated a sense of power. And I found that power to be intoxicating.
At that point I did not care about right or wrong. I only knew that I trusted this man completed. He was man of God. I needed to put actions to demonstrate my faith in him. He had a plan to bring about good. So I removed my bra. My nipples were erect. I looked down at the carpet in shame.
I felt his hand gently lift my chin so that my eyes met his. I swore that his blue eyes could penetrate into my soul.
“Did Satan send you here to seduce me?” he whispered.
I answered yes. And I knew my answer was true. Until that moment I had always played the victim and never took responsibility for my actions. I felt tears going down my face. Pastor Karl gently wiped my tears away.
“Now you understand the depth of your depravity. Only now can you start to heal,” he said.
He then kissed me in a grandfatherly way on the forehead. He pulled me gently on his lap and I curled up like a kitten. Pastor Karl held me and caressed my hair for 30 minutes. I felt the love of God return.
Aftermath
Over the weeks that followed, I often thought of that prayer session with Pastor Karl. While I know his method might raise a few eyebrows, I truly believe that he was led by God to provide me with a couple of lessons.
The first lesson is that it is possible to be tempted but not yield to temptation. Pastor Karl had a half-naked woman on his lap that admitted she was trying to seduce him. I could tell that he was physically aroused (I could feel his erection.) However, he did not yield to the temptation. He demonstrated how a person of faith can pass a test. And how I don’t have any excuse to yielding to temptation.
The second lesson was that is demonstrated how I was not such a good and moral woman. I liked to play the victim and blame other for my moral failure. I blame Mark for raping me at the Christmas party all those years ago. But I played my part in leading him on.
I have not spoken in private with Pastor Karl since that incident. But when we look at each other, I can tell of the bond between us.
I am struggling with my faith. Can I be like Pastor Karl and be tempted without yielding? I don’t know.
Pastor Karl: Why did you let me remove your blouse?
Me: I don’t know.
Pastor Karl: I believe it is because Satan sent you here to tempt me as he sent Bathsheba to tempt David.
Me: No! I love God. I want his forgiveness.
Pastor Karl: If you loved God you wouldn’t use your body to tempt me. And you have always deliberately tempted men with your body since you were a student here.
Me: No. I just want to do good and be good.
Pastor Karl: Well, we both know that is a lie. You are an adulterer. And you came in my office dressed immodestly with a sheer blouse. I could see your bra through that blouse.
We are all sinners. And I don’t expect perfect people to be on my staff. But I don’t tolerate liars.
You have two choices. 1) You can be a liar and put your blouse back on and claim you love God. 2) Or you can be honest and remove your bra. And admit Satan sent you here to seduce me.
I wanted more than anything to put by blouse back on. And I did love God. I wanted to be a good and moral person. But was I lying to myself?
I thought of all I had done in past few years - the lies, the sexual immorality with Mark. In a moment of sudden clarity I realized Pastor Karl was right, I was depraved. Satan was leading me.
But I did not want to seduce Pastor Karl. He was my spiritual father for all this years. I admired his leadership and charisma. But I never thought of him sexually. Or did I?
I looked up at the face of Pastor Karl. I had known that face for 20 years. He was now in his 60s and slightly balding. While not particularly handsome, he radiated a sense of power. And I found that power to be intoxicating.
At that point I did not care about right or wrong. I only knew that I trusted this man completed. He was man of God. I needed to put actions to demonstrate my faith in him. He had a plan to bring about good. So I removed my bra. My nipples were erect. I looked down at the carpet in shame.
I felt his hand gently lift my chin so that my eyes met his. I swore that his blue eyes could penetrate into my soul.
“Did Satan send you here to seduce me?” he whispered.
I answered yes. And I knew my answer was true. Until that moment I had always played the victim and never took responsibility for my actions. I felt tears going down my face. Pastor Karl gently wiped my tears away.
“Now you understand the depth of your depravity. Only now can you start to heal,” he said.
He then kissed me in a grandfatherly way on the forehead. He pulled me gently on his lap and I curled up like a kitten. Pastor Karl held me and caressed my hair for 30 minutes. I felt the love of God return.
Aftermath
Over the weeks that followed, I often thought of that prayer session with Pastor Karl. While I know his method might raise a few eyebrows, I truly believe that he was led by God to provide me with a couple of lessons.
The first lesson is that it is possible to be tempted but not yield to temptation. Pastor Karl had a half-naked woman on his lap that admitted she was trying to seduce him. I could tell that he was physically aroused (I could feel his erection.) However, he did not yield to the temptation. He demonstrated how a person of faith can pass a test. And how I don’t have any excuse to yielding to temptation.
The second lesson was that is demonstrated how I was not such a good and moral woman. I liked to play the victim and blame other for my moral failure. I blame Mark for raping me at the Christmas party all those years ago. But I played my part in leading him on.
I have not spoken in private with Pastor Karl since that incident. But when we look at each other, I can tell of the bond between us.
I am struggling with my faith. Can I be like Pastor Karl and be tempted without yielding? I don’t know.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thoughts while sitting in cat vomit
I fell when I got home from school yesterday.
I arrived home late after attending the start of the year parent and teacher conferences. I was exhausted and crabby. I could only imagine taking a hot shower and curling up in bed with a book. That was not to be.
As I entered the front door, I felt my foot slip from underneath me. Some sort of fluid was on the floor. I fell in an undignified manner landing on my butt. My hand landed in the warm liquid. It took me to register that it was cat vomit.
In the living room I could see my delightful, balding husband sitting on the couch looking at the TV intently. Screams and explosions emanated from the television. He was playing some video game.
Even though I was still on my butt, I could see the house was a mess. Dirty dishes and glasses were on the floor and various tables. Toys littered the floor. And a pair of dirty socks was in the middle of all of this mess.
Oh, did I mention that my husband no longer has a job? He was laid off last April. The unemployment is soon to run out and he has no prospects. The fact that we will be unable to make the house payments on my comically small salary seems to be of no particular concern to him. He plays video games while I work.
My husband was laid off immediately after I ended the affair with Mark. Of course, I am sure it is just a coincidence. Yeah… right.
I get mad at Jeff, but I know I am to blame. I would apologize, what would I say? “Sorry you got laid off sweetie. But it was not your fault. Your boss just fired you to get back at me because I decided to stop fucking him. Sorry it ruined your career. “
So I got off my butt, and forced a smile behind my tears. I cleaned the house up and was able to finally take my shower late at night. Even though I was exhausted, I could not sleep.
I have never met a man as cruel and vindictive as Mark. Why must he continue to torment me? If he hates me that is OK - I will accept that as my price of penance. But doesn’t he realize that getting rid of Jeff also hurts his biological son? We are headed towards a financial disaster. Doesn’t this man have ANY heart?
I have not contacted Mark since April. But now I am thinking of contacting him and asking if he could bring Jeff back. I know it has usually been a mistake to contact Mark. But if I just sent an e-mail or an instant message, maybe it would be OK. If he wants me to grovel I will grovel. But he is not only hurting me, he is hurting his son.
I arrived home late after attending the start of the year parent and teacher conferences. I was exhausted and crabby. I could only imagine taking a hot shower and curling up in bed with a book. That was not to be.
As I entered the front door, I felt my foot slip from underneath me. Some sort of fluid was on the floor. I fell in an undignified manner landing on my butt. My hand landed in the warm liquid. It took me to register that it was cat vomit.
In the living room I could see my delightful, balding husband sitting on the couch looking at the TV intently. Screams and explosions emanated from the television. He was playing some video game.
Even though I was still on my butt, I could see the house was a mess. Dirty dishes and glasses were on the floor and various tables. Toys littered the floor. And a pair of dirty socks was in the middle of all of this mess.
Oh, did I mention that my husband no longer has a job? He was laid off last April. The unemployment is soon to run out and he has no prospects. The fact that we will be unable to make the house payments on my comically small salary seems to be of no particular concern to him. He plays video games while I work.
My husband was laid off immediately after I ended the affair with Mark. Of course, I am sure it is just a coincidence. Yeah… right.
I get mad at Jeff, but I know I am to blame. I would apologize, what would I say? “Sorry you got laid off sweetie. But it was not your fault. Your boss just fired you to get back at me because I decided to stop fucking him. Sorry it ruined your career. “
So I got off my butt, and forced a smile behind my tears. I cleaned the house up and was able to finally take my shower late at night. Even though I was exhausted, I could not sleep.
I have never met a man as cruel and vindictive as Mark. Why must he continue to torment me? If he hates me that is OK - I will accept that as my price of penance. But doesn’t he realize that getting rid of Jeff also hurts his biological son? We are headed towards a financial disaster. Doesn’t this man have ANY heart?
I have not contacted Mark since April. But now I am thinking of contacting him and asking if he could bring Jeff back. I know it has usually been a mistake to contact Mark. But if I just sent an e-mail or an instant message, maybe it would be OK. If he wants me to grovel I will grovel. But he is not only hurting me, he is hurting his son.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Birthday Party
Wow… it has been forever since I have updated this blog.
Since I had my relapse back in April, much has happened. I like that word “relapse” – sounds so much more polite than “being fucked by my lover.” ;-)
I went to counseling at church to help with my problem. I have determined that counseling is basically a waste of time. It is depressing when you realize that the people trying to help you are just as much screwed up as yourself. But the counseling did get me to realize that there is only way to stop having an affair – and that is to just say no. Yeah, I know that sounds trite, but it is true.
So I have been affair free since April! I am not sure if that is on the wagon or off the wagon. But just as a recovering alcoholic describes himself as clean and sober, I have been clean and chaste since April. Yeah me!
My son just turned two last week. I can’t believe how fast time goes by! Almost three years ago, some drunken asshole raped me in my own home during a Christmas party. And because of that senseless act of sex, I am now blowing up animal balloons and putting up dinosaur streamers at a birthday party. God does work in mysterious ways!
Don’t get me wrong, I love my son more than anything. It would just have been easier if my husband was the real father. But then my son would have been a different person. And I love him just how he is. I guess that is a paradox. Hurts my brain to think too much about it.
And I should correct myself - my husband is the REAL father. He may not be the biological father, but he is the man that is there for my son.
And despite all his grandiose plans and talk, Mark was never there for his son. He only feigned interest in my son so that he could have an excuse to be around me. He figured that if he was around me he would find a way to have sex with me. And, of course, he was right. So it is actually better that he is now out of the picture. But I am still irritated at him.
As I watched my son at the party, I realized how much he looks like Mark. In my anxious state, I swore that everyone at the party was secretly knew the secret! Of course, very few people really know the truth except for Mark, a counselor and myself.
My counselor did urge that I should tell Jeff the truth that he is not the biological father. But I could not take that step. And it is not that I am scared what would happen to me. Revealing the truth would be a welcome release for me. But I fear the truth would devastate my husband and his relationship with our son. I have already caused enough damage. Do I have the right to cause more just so I can get some therapeutic benefit? What do you guys think?
Since I had my relapse back in April, much has happened. I like that word “relapse” – sounds so much more polite than “being fucked by my lover.” ;-)
I went to counseling at church to help with my problem. I have determined that counseling is basically a waste of time. It is depressing when you realize that the people trying to help you are just as much screwed up as yourself. But the counseling did get me to realize that there is only way to stop having an affair – and that is to just say no. Yeah, I know that sounds trite, but it is true.
So I have been affair free since April! I am not sure if that is on the wagon or off the wagon. But just as a recovering alcoholic describes himself as clean and sober, I have been clean and chaste since April. Yeah me!
My son just turned two last week. I can’t believe how fast time goes by! Almost three years ago, some drunken asshole raped me in my own home during a Christmas party. And because of that senseless act of sex, I am now blowing up animal balloons and putting up dinosaur streamers at a birthday party. God does work in mysterious ways!
Don’t get me wrong, I love my son more than anything. It would just have been easier if my husband was the real father. But then my son would have been a different person. And I love him just how he is. I guess that is a paradox. Hurts my brain to think too much about it.
And I should correct myself - my husband is the REAL father. He may not be the biological father, but he is the man that is there for my son.
And despite all his grandiose plans and talk, Mark was never there for his son. He only feigned interest in my son so that he could have an excuse to be around me. He figured that if he was around me he would find a way to have sex with me. And, of course, he was right. So it is actually better that he is now out of the picture. But I am still irritated at him.
As I watched my son at the party, I realized how much he looks like Mark. In my anxious state, I swore that everyone at the party was secretly knew the secret! Of course, very few people really know the truth except for Mark, a counselor and myself.
My counselor did urge that I should tell Jeff the truth that he is not the biological father. But I could not take that step. And it is not that I am scared what would happen to me. Revealing the truth would be a welcome release for me. But I fear the truth would devastate my husband and his relationship with our son. I have already caused enough damage. Do I have the right to cause more just so I can get some therapeutic benefit? What do you guys think?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Relapse
Sorry that I have not posted in awhile. My original goal of this blog was to sort out my thoughts concerning the affair. And it was also to document my recovery. Unfortunately, I relapsed into the affair. As such, I did not see the point to continue this blog.
I have found that an affair is sort of like a drug addiction. I realize that it is destructive and harmful, yet I am addicted. I would guess that 95% of the time is miserable. But that craving of the “high” of the 5% is what is hard to break.
Like a smoker that quits a thousand times, I am always quitting his affair. I always tell myself “just one more time and that is it” but then I go back for more.
I have found that an affair is sort of like a drug addiction. I realize that it is destructive and harmful, yet I am addicted. I would guess that 95% of the time is miserable. But that craving of the “high” of the 5% is what is hard to break.
Like a smoker that quits a thousand times, I am always quitting his affair. I always tell myself “just one more time and that is it” but then I go back for more.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Lunch with Mark
After that Christmas party, I never did plan to see Mark again. I figured I would have the baby and that would be that. There was no reason for anyone to know the truth.
In March I received a call out of the blue from Mark. He said that he heard that I was pregnant and he wondered if the baby might be his. I coldly told him No and that he was to never call me again. I hung up the phone before he could respond. I did not want that man back in my life.
A week later I received a certified letter. The letter said that his lawyers would demand a DNA test. And if the child was his, he would sue to have visitation rights. My hands were trembling after I read the letter. I could not believe that he would go through with something like this.
I called his office and we talked. I asked him if he had not already done enough to hurt me. And why couldn’t he leave me alone. He told me he wanted to meet to discuss things. I told him I didn’t trust him. So he suggested that we meet for lunch in public at his exclusive country club. I agreed.
I agreed because I wanted to confront him about that night. I had so much anger. And I also planned to tell him that he should be thanking his lucky stars that I am not naming him as the father. I doubt Lisa would be thrilled to learn of the child support he would need to pay me.
When I arrived at the club, I had second thoughts. The place was fancy and I felt out of my element.
He was not there when I arrived, so I sat looking at the menu and drinking the water for 20 minutes. I felt foolish as if I had been stood up. And then I saw him headed in my direction. He was so tall that he was quite the sight in his suit. And he walked in an arrogant manner as if he owned the place. I could see that other people were secretly glancing at him.
He smiled at me and sat down. I noticed that I was all flustered. I had planned to frown and launch into him. But now I was also just smiling like a fool. I quickly regained my composure and scowled at him. I had a whole speech memorized. And I was ready to rip him to shreds.
I told him not to speak until I said my mind. I told him he was a horrible man and I hated him. And he was lucky I didn’t have him thrown in jail. And he better stop any idea of demanding a DNA test, or I would do everything in my power to destroy him. And he should just be thankful that I am not asking him for child support.
During my entire speech he just sat there looking vaguely amused. That made me even angrier. He asked me if I was done and he started to talk.
He told me that I was beautiful. And from the very first day he saw me he felt as if we had a mystical connection between us. He said that he was thrilled that I was carry our baby, but he didn’t want to do anything to hurt me.
He then pushed an envelope to me. He said it contained instructions for a trust fund he set up for my child and me. He said no one would have no know about it except for me. I pushed it back and told him I did not want his money. I only wanted him out of my life.
He said that was my choice. But if I refused to keep him involve, he would take legal action which would force his rights as a father. He said he realized that would cost his marriage and child support. He reminded me that such an action would be very public and it would hurt Jeff and probably destroy my family. Not to mention it would probably cost me my job teaching at the Christian school. He told me that I had up to the time the baby was born to make my decision. And then he would file the legal action.
I hated the man. I wanted to kill him. Then he leaned over and kissed me. And he walked away.
My panties were soaked.
In March I received a call out of the blue from Mark. He said that he heard that I was pregnant and he wondered if the baby might be his. I coldly told him No and that he was to never call me again. I hung up the phone before he could respond. I did not want that man back in my life.
A week later I received a certified letter. The letter said that his lawyers would demand a DNA test. And if the child was his, he would sue to have visitation rights. My hands were trembling after I read the letter. I could not believe that he would go through with something like this.
I called his office and we talked. I asked him if he had not already done enough to hurt me. And why couldn’t he leave me alone. He told me he wanted to meet to discuss things. I told him I didn’t trust him. So he suggested that we meet for lunch in public at his exclusive country club. I agreed.
I agreed because I wanted to confront him about that night. I had so much anger. And I also planned to tell him that he should be thanking his lucky stars that I am not naming him as the father. I doubt Lisa would be thrilled to learn of the child support he would need to pay me.
When I arrived at the club, I had second thoughts. The place was fancy and I felt out of my element.He was not there when I arrived, so I sat looking at the menu and drinking the water for 20 minutes. I felt foolish as if I had been stood up. And then I saw him headed in my direction. He was so tall that he was quite the sight in his suit. And he walked in an arrogant manner as if he owned the place. I could see that other people were secretly glancing at him.
He smiled at me and sat down. I noticed that I was all flustered. I had planned to frown and launch into him. But now I was also just smiling like a fool. I quickly regained my composure and scowled at him. I had a whole speech memorized. And I was ready to rip him to shreds.
I told him not to speak until I said my mind. I told him he was a horrible man and I hated him. And he was lucky I didn’t have him thrown in jail. And he better stop any idea of demanding a DNA test, or I would do everything in my power to destroy him. And he should just be thankful that I am not asking him for child support.
During my entire speech he just sat there looking vaguely amused. That made me even angrier. He asked me if I was done and he started to talk.
He told me that I was beautiful. And from the very first day he saw me he felt as if we had a mystical connection between us. He said that he was thrilled that I was carry our baby, but he didn’t want to do anything to hurt me.
He then pushed an envelope to me. He said it contained instructions for a trust fund he set up for my child and me. He said no one would have no know about it except for me. I pushed it back and told him I did not want his money. I only wanted him out of my life.
He said that was my choice. But if I refused to keep him involve, he would take legal action which would force his rights as a father. He said he realized that would cost his marriage and child support. He reminded me that such an action would be very public and it would hurt Jeff and probably destroy my family. Not to mention it would probably cost me my job teaching at the Christian school. He told me that I had up to the time the baby was born to make my decision. And then he would file the legal action.
I hated the man. I wanted to kill him. Then he leaned over and kissed me. And he walked away.
My panties were soaked.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Sex with my husband
So I had sex with my husband last night. And I know that must sound like a “big deal” type of statement. But here is the kicker – is has been over two years since I last had sex with my husband.
After that night I had sex with Mark, I just always seemed to find an excuse not to have sex with Jeff. That first month I was too sore with my broken wrist. And then once I found I was carrying Mark’s baby, I didn’t want Jeff inside me. It just seemed wrong on some level I can’t explain.
Jeff was sweet and always understanding when I told him I did not feel in the mood for sex. I told him the pregnancy was hurting my sexual desire. And that was good enough for him.
Then after my baby was born, I told him it would take awhile for me to recover. Well, months past and I was still not in the mood.
The real problem was that I was having sex with Mark. And I just couldn’t have sex with Mark and then happily have sex with my husband. My body froze at the thought. And whenever Jeff touched me I was repulsed.
I think this must be a man versus woman thing. For I know Mark was still happily having sex with Lisa during our affair. And that always bothered me that he could do that.
Anyway, since I ended the affair a week ago I have been craving sex. I thought this would be a good time to establish normal relations with my husband.
So we sent the kids to his parents last night. We had a nice romantic dinner. And I really tried to keep thoughts of Mark out of my mind.
As we drove home I was dreading thoughts of having sex with him. When we got him he started to kiss me. When his hand touched my breasts my body tensed. I just wanted to end this quick. I quickly undressed him and myself. I pulled him down on top of me and I guided his penis into me. Thankfully, as soon as he entered me he ejaculated.
He rolled over and went to sleep. I jumped in the shower. Then I went on the computer and surfed the web all night.
After that night I had sex with Mark, I just always seemed to find an excuse not to have sex with Jeff. That first month I was too sore with my broken wrist. And then once I found I was carrying Mark’s baby, I didn’t want Jeff inside me. It just seemed wrong on some level I can’t explain.
Jeff was sweet and always understanding when I told him I did not feel in the mood for sex. I told him the pregnancy was hurting my sexual desire. And that was good enough for him.
Then after my baby was born, I told him it would take awhile for me to recover. Well, months past and I was still not in the mood.
The real problem was that I was having sex with Mark. And I just couldn’t have sex with Mark and then happily have sex with my husband. My body froze at the thought. And whenever Jeff touched me I was repulsed.
I think this must be a man versus woman thing. For I know Mark was still happily having sex with Lisa during our affair. And that always bothered me that he could do that.
Anyway, since I ended the affair a week ago I have been craving sex. I thought this would be a good time to establish normal relations with my husband.
So we sent the kids to his parents last night. We had a nice romantic dinner. And I really tried to keep thoughts of Mark out of my mind.
As we drove home I was dreading thoughts of having sex with him. When we got him he started to kiss me. When his hand touched my breasts my body tensed. I just wanted to end this quick. I quickly undressed him and myself. I pulled him down on top of me and I guided his penis into me. Thankfully, as soon as he entered me he ejaculated.
He rolled over and went to sleep. I jumped in the shower. Then I went on the computer and surfed the web all night.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Stupid Pink Line
I hated that stupid pink horizontal pink line. It was the second morning I saw it. I was hoping that if I kept trying I would get a different result. But I already knew what my body was telling me. I was pregnant. I laughed. I was not exactly having a Bing Crosby magical Christmas.
While the other neighborhood Moms were shopping for holiday treats and decorations, I was out at the medical clinic getting tested for STDs. Not exactly the stuff Christmas songs are made of. You see, that is one of the fun things you get to do after you have unprotected sex with a man you don’t know. I did not exactly know Mark’s sexual history. But based on his behavior with me, I had to assume he has placed his penis in various vaginas around the country.
So the experience was like playing a negative lottery. Did I have herpes? Syphilis? Or how about the granddaddy of the STDs – HIV? Was I going to die?
To answer these fun questions, I got to go to a medical clinic to get tested. That is always a fun conversation to have with the receptionist -
“Yes, I would like to make an appointment to get tested for various STDs. No, I don’t know the sexual history of the man I had unprotected sex with. And Merry Christmas to you too!”
Luckily, I avoided the STD lottery. I was disease free. However, my wrist was not so fortunate. It turned out it had a hairline fracture, so I was in a put in a green cast. I choose green because I figured it was a festive color.
All I had to do was avoid pregnancy, and I would have been home free. But somehow I just knew Mark’s sperm would bash their way into my egg. Like father, like sperm.
After the initial shock, I actually had a sense of peace about everything. I figured that no one would have to know. My husband would be the real father. Did the source of the sperm really matter that much? Maybe it did, but I had no other options.
Abortion was not an option because of my beliefs. And what good would it do to tell Jeff about Mark? Would it really do anyone any good for me to bring a baby into a broken home? And I suppose it was theoretically possible the baby was biologically my husband’s. It is true that we did not have unprotected sex during the time frame, but condoms are not 100% reliable. So my best guess is that we had a defective condom and a sperm sneaked through. I told myself that story so many times that I actually began to believe it. Still I was worried to announce my pregnancy to Jeff.
“How did that happen?” asked Jeff.
“Don’t know. Must have been a defective condom. It happens.” I said.
There was a pregnant pause (sorry about the pun) as Jeff considered it.
“Wow! I am so excited!” he said.
Whew. I dodged a bullet. I felt some guilt. But then I became excited. This would be our baby.
On September 4, 2007 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Unfortunately, Mark was still in the picture. And that is the subject of another post.
While the other neighborhood Moms were shopping for holiday treats and decorations, I was out at the medical clinic getting tested for STDs. Not exactly the stuff Christmas songs are made of. You see, that is one of the fun things you get to do after you have unprotected sex with a man you don’t know. I did not exactly know Mark’s sexual history. But based on his behavior with me, I had to assume he has placed his penis in various vaginas around the country.
So the experience was like playing a negative lottery. Did I have herpes? Syphilis? Or how about the granddaddy of the STDs – HIV? Was I going to die?
To answer these fun questions, I got to go to a medical clinic to get tested. That is always a fun conversation to have with the receptionist -
“Yes, I would like to make an appointment to get tested for various STDs. No, I don’t know the sexual history of the man I had unprotected sex with. And Merry Christmas to you too!”
Luckily, I avoided the STD lottery. I was disease free. However, my wrist was not so fortunate. It turned out it had a hairline fracture, so I was in a put in a green cast. I choose green because I figured it was a festive color.
All I had to do was avoid pregnancy, and I would have been home free. But somehow I just knew Mark’s sperm would bash their way into my egg. Like father, like sperm.
After the initial shock, I actually had a sense of peace about everything. I figured that no one would have to know. My husband would be the real father. Did the source of the sperm really matter that much? Maybe it did, but I had no other options.
Abortion was not an option because of my beliefs. And what good would it do to tell Jeff about Mark? Would it really do anyone any good for me to bring a baby into a broken home? And I suppose it was theoretically possible the baby was biologically my husband’s. It is true that we did not have unprotected sex during the time frame, but condoms are not 100% reliable. So my best guess is that we had a defective condom and a sperm sneaked through. I told myself that story so many times that I actually began to believe it. Still I was worried to announce my pregnancy to Jeff.
“How did that happen?” asked Jeff.
“Don’t know. Must have been a defective condom. It happens.” I said.
There was a pregnant pause (sorry about the pun) as Jeff considered it.
“Wow! I am so excited!” he said.
Whew. I dodged a bullet. I felt some guilt. But then I became excited. This would be our baby.
On September 4, 2007 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Unfortunately, Mark was still in the picture. And that is the subject of another post.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Questions from a reader
I received an e-mail from a man (Peter) who had some question. As I was thinking about my reply, I thought that this might be an interesting blog post.
Question: You wrote that you never had sex before your marriage. How old were you? How was it possible for you to wait so long?
Yes, I was a virgin when I married. I was married at 22.
And, yes, I know this makes me somewhat of a freak by modern standards. However, I suppose I was able to maintain my virginity through a variety of factors. I was raised in a strict home and I attended a Christian school. As such, it was expected that a girl should wait. Of course, many of the girls I went to school with had sex. So attended such a school is not some guarantee of chastity, but I think it helps.
I also was very sheltered as a child. I was not allowed to watch TV or movies. So I had very little exposure to the mainstream culture that emphasizes sex.
I also was just not that interested in sex. I guess I was a late bloomer, my sex drive did not really kick in until I reached 30. So it wasn’t really hard for me to remain chaste for so long.
Question: I have the impression that you don´t like the fact that you had sex with another man. Right? If it´s true, is it because of your religious rules? Is it because it was the wrong man?
To be precise, I don’t like that I like to have sex with Mark. I have not shared my entire story yet, but Mark led my down a dark path.
One of the lessons I have learned from this experience is that sex can bring light or darkness, or good or evil. The dark path tempted me and I was surprised how much I compromised my self-respect and beliefs.
Question: You wrote something about guilt, but I cannot understand it.
Jeeez… where do I start? I violated the trust of my husband. I was the Other Woman to Lisa. I degraded my self-respect. I could go on all day about guilt. That is one of the reasons why I ended the relationship.
Question: You regret it. Right?
My honest answer? I actually have been regretting I ended the relationship.
Question: You wrote that you never had sex before your marriage. How old were you? How was it possible for you to wait so long?
Yes, I was a virgin when I married. I was married at 22.
And, yes, I know this makes me somewhat of a freak by modern standards. However, I suppose I was able to maintain my virginity through a variety of factors. I was raised in a strict home and I attended a Christian school. As such, it was expected that a girl should wait. Of course, many of the girls I went to school with had sex. So attended such a school is not some guarantee of chastity, but I think it helps.
I also was very sheltered as a child. I was not allowed to watch TV or movies. So I had very little exposure to the mainstream culture that emphasizes sex.
I also was just not that interested in sex. I guess I was a late bloomer, my sex drive did not really kick in until I reached 30. So it wasn’t really hard for me to remain chaste for so long.
Question: I have the impression that you don´t like the fact that you had sex with another man. Right? If it´s true, is it because of your religious rules? Is it because it was the wrong man?
To be precise, I don’t like that I like to have sex with Mark. I have not shared my entire story yet, but Mark led my down a dark path.
One of the lessons I have learned from this experience is that sex can bring light or darkness, or good or evil. The dark path tempted me and I was surprised how much I compromised my self-respect and beliefs.
Question: You wrote something about guilt, but I cannot understand it.
Jeeez… where do I start? I violated the trust of my husband. I was the Other Woman to Lisa. I degraded my self-respect. I could go on all day about guilt. That is one of the reasons why I ended the relationship.
Question: You regret it. Right?
My honest answer? I actually have been regretting I ended the relationship.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Christmas Party Finally Ends
I don’t want to turn this blog into a pity party for myself! I am actually a pretty positive person in life. And while many negative things happened to me over the past couple of years, I sometimes can’t help but to laugh at the zaniness of it all.
OK, I was left sitting on the bedroom floor with my torn pantyhose next to me. I had just been raped by my husband’s CEO. And, yet, my greatest fear at that moment was that I had been away from the party too long! I felt a tinge of horror considering the possibility that we were critically low on salsa for the chips and the ice for drinks may be gone! And I knew my dear husband would not notice such things. I had to get back downstairs immediately!
I quickly ran to the bathroom and brushed my hair quickly to try to eliminate the “just been fucked” look. Then I ran down the stairs with the coats in hand that was the reason I originally came upstairs.
Jeff look irritated as I ran down the stairs. He asked me what took me so long. I smile brightly and told him that I was sorry, but I was having sexual intercourse with a guest. Jeff rolled his eyes and told me that I need to lay off the wine.
I suppose I should give a little background. I have always had a sarcastic sense of humor. I suppose I use sarcasm as an emotional defense. Anyway, the down side (or benefit) of being sarcastic is that my husband frequently does not take me seriously.
For whatever reason, I experienced a rush of adrenaline. I was able to repress what had happened, and I concentrated on being the perfect hostess. I was a whirlwind of activity in making sure the guests had drink and food. I was not about to allow one glass to go empty while I was on watch! I also joined in the conversations and was as charming as I could be. I was strong and confident. And then Lisa joined the conversation.
As I think I mentioned in a previous post, Lisa is Mark’s wife. Although I would guess she was in her early 40s, she reminded me of the stereotypical trophy wife. She was tall, skinny (probably a size 0) and very blonde. Although I have very fair skin, her skin was even fairer than mine – almost translucent.
She wore a dress that probably cost more than my monthly salary as teacher. A diamond chocker glistened around her neck. And her wedding diamond looked was huge. Not only was she obviously rich – she had the style and manner of a woman who had always been part of the upper class. Year ago people would have used the phrase “blue blood” to describe Lisa.
As she joined our small circle of conversation, my heart started to race. I felt short and dumpy next to her. A wave of guilt and near panic overwhelmed me. My intuition told me that she just KNEW her husband had sex with me. It had no reason to logically believe that was the case. But my gut told me that she knew.
As the people around us continued the conversation, Lisa just stared at me with her green eyes. I told myself to calm down and act cool. I told myself that I was imagining things.
Then we had the following conversation. This conversation was a couple of years ago, so it may not be verbatim.
“You have a charming, little house,” said Lisa.
She was polite, but I could tell she was patronizing me. I just smiled and said thank you.
“And this was a charming little party. My husband frequently gets bored at these types of events. But I can tell that you provided him with a good time.”
My heart froze. How did she know? Her quick glance down provided me with the answer. I was no longer wearing my hose. In my hurry to get back downstairs I forgot to replace my hose. I remembered to comb my hair and touch up my makeup, but I forgot the hose. I felt like a cheap whore.
Jeff babbled something to her about how happy he was that they had a good time, and that we should do this more often. Like most men, the entire exchange went over his head.
At this point, I became physically ill. The enormity of it all overwhelmed me. I told Jeff I was sick and he would need to see everyone out. I went upstairs to our bathroom and threw up.
I started a hot shower and I sat down and cried. I was a mess! My wrist was throbbing from where Mark held it tightly against the wall. My vagina was sore.
And then the real issues hit me. Would Jeff find out and divorce me? Was Lisa going to make trouble? What was to prevent Mark from attacking me again? We had unprotected sex - did I now have a STD? Could I have HIV? Was I going to die? OMG, I was not a birth control!
I got out of the shower and tried to compose myself in the mirror. Then I noticed my butt hurt. The skin hurt on my butt and I could not understand why. I turned to look at it in the mirror and I could see it was red. Then I realized – it was burned from rubbing against the wall as Mark fucked me.
I started to giggle. And I could not stop. It wasn’t that funny, but I was giggling uncontrollably.
I put on my night T-shirt and left the bathroom headed to bed. On the bed was my dear husband wearing nothing but a blue condom. I forgot that it was Saturday. Saturday was our traditional sex night. He looked like he was trying to be seductive, but he looked ridiculous. I started to laugh. And laugh. I was laughing so hard I was also crying. I could not speak. My dear husband got mad and left in a huff to the guest bedroom.
So I was slept alone that night. My wrist was throbbing and I ached all over. I was scared. I felt dirty. I was angry at Jeff. I hated Mark. And I cried softly until I fell asleep.
That last sentence is not entirely true. But I might end this post with the last paragraph. It makes me feel better as a victim. The truth is I did cry. But then I thought of how Mark’s cock felt in me. I became obsessed with that thought. After I masturbated three times, I was finally able to find sleep. (Yeah, I will be surprised if I share this paragraph.)
OK, I was left sitting on the bedroom floor with my torn pantyhose next to me. I had just been raped by my husband’s CEO. And, yet, my greatest fear at that moment was that I had been away from the party too long! I felt a tinge of horror considering the possibility that we were critically low on salsa for the chips and the ice for drinks may be gone! And I knew my dear husband would not notice such things. I had to get back downstairs immediately!
I quickly ran to the bathroom and brushed my hair quickly to try to eliminate the “just been fucked” look. Then I ran down the stairs with the coats in hand that was the reason I originally came upstairs.
Jeff look irritated as I ran down the stairs. He asked me what took me so long. I smile brightly and told him that I was sorry, but I was having sexual intercourse with a guest. Jeff rolled his eyes and told me that I need to lay off the wine.
I suppose I should give a little background. I have always had a sarcastic sense of humor. I suppose I use sarcasm as an emotional defense. Anyway, the down side (or benefit) of being sarcastic is that my husband frequently does not take me seriously.
For whatever reason, I experienced a rush of adrenaline. I was able to repress what had happened, and I concentrated on being the perfect hostess. I was a whirlwind of activity in making sure the guests had drink and food. I was not about to allow one glass to go empty while I was on watch! I also joined in the conversations and was as charming as I could be. I was strong and confident. And then Lisa joined the conversation.
As I think I mentioned in a previous post, Lisa is Mark’s wife. Although I would guess she was in her early 40s, she reminded me of the stereotypical trophy wife. She was tall, skinny (probably a size 0) and very blonde. Although I have very fair skin, her skin was even fairer than mine – almost translucent.
She wore a dress that probably cost more than my monthly salary as teacher. A diamond chocker glistened around her neck. And her wedding diamond looked was huge. Not only was she obviously rich – she had the style and manner of a woman who had always been part of the upper class. Year ago people would have used the phrase “blue blood” to describe Lisa.
As she joined our small circle of conversation, my heart started to race. I felt short and dumpy next to her. A wave of guilt and near panic overwhelmed me. My intuition told me that she just KNEW her husband had sex with me. It had no reason to logically believe that was the case. But my gut told me that she knew.
As the people around us continued the conversation, Lisa just stared at me with her green eyes. I told myself to calm down and act cool. I told myself that I was imagining things.
Then we had the following conversation. This conversation was a couple of years ago, so it may not be verbatim.
“You have a charming, little house,” said Lisa.
She was polite, but I could tell she was patronizing me. I just smiled and said thank you.
“And this was a charming little party. My husband frequently gets bored at these types of events. But I can tell that you provided him with a good time.”
My heart froze. How did she know? Her quick glance down provided me with the answer. I was no longer wearing my hose. In my hurry to get back downstairs I forgot to replace my hose. I remembered to comb my hair and touch up my makeup, but I forgot the hose. I felt like a cheap whore.
Jeff babbled something to her about how happy he was that they had a good time, and that we should do this more often. Like most men, the entire exchange went over his head.
At this point, I became physically ill. The enormity of it all overwhelmed me. I told Jeff I was sick and he would need to see everyone out. I went upstairs to our bathroom and threw up.
I started a hot shower and I sat down and cried. I was a mess! My wrist was throbbing from where Mark held it tightly against the wall. My vagina was sore.
And then the real issues hit me. Would Jeff find out and divorce me? Was Lisa going to make trouble? What was to prevent Mark from attacking me again? We had unprotected sex - did I now have a STD? Could I have HIV? Was I going to die? OMG, I was not a birth control!
I got out of the shower and tried to compose myself in the mirror. Then I noticed my butt hurt. The skin hurt on my butt and I could not understand why. I turned to look at it in the mirror and I could see it was red. Then I realized – it was burned from rubbing against the wall as Mark fucked me.
I started to giggle. And I could not stop. It wasn’t that funny, but I was giggling uncontrollably.
I put on my night T-shirt and left the bathroom headed to bed. On the bed was my dear husband wearing nothing but a blue condom. I forgot that it was Saturday. Saturday was our traditional sex night. He looked like he was trying to be seductive, but he looked ridiculous. I started to laugh. And laugh. I was laughing so hard I was also crying. I could not speak. My dear husband got mad and left in a huff to the guest bedroom.
So I was slept alone that night. My wrist was throbbing and I ached all over. I was scared. I felt dirty. I was angry at Jeff. I hated Mark. And I cried softly until I fell asleep.
That last sentence is not entirely true. But I might end this post with the last paragraph. It makes me feel better as a victim. The truth is I did cry. But then I thought of how Mark’s cock felt in me. I became obsessed with that thought. After I masturbated three times, I was finally able to find sleep. (Yeah, I will be surprised if I share this paragraph.)
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Christmas Party Disaster
In December 2006 my husband asked if I would host a small Christmas party at our home for his co-workers in property accounting. At first I said no, because I hate the stress of managing such an event. My husband thinks that a successful party just magically happens. He does not understand the preparation and planning involved.
But my husband kept pleading his case saying that it would be “no big deal” because only about 10 couples would attend. We don’t have a large home, but I figured we could accommodate around 20 people if we move stuff around. So I relented and agreed to the party.
A week later, my husband dropped a bomb shell. Mark had heard about the party and he wanted to know if he could attend. It seems that Mark does this on occasion to show that he is employee friendly and is not above rubbing elbows with the rest of us.
I was horrified. How could I be responsible for planning a party that the CEO and his wife would attend? I was not sure what rich people expected at parties. Does the upper class eat chip and dip? What would I wear? Would the house be a mess?
I tried to convince Jeff to cancel the party. But he told me he was not worried and that it would be impossible to cancel anyway. I thought – sure you don’t have to worry, you are not doing anything!
I decided to have the party catered to help reduce my stress level. And when the people arrived, everything actually started out well. People seemed to be enjoying the food, drinks and Christmas music.
When Mark and Lisa arrived it changed the dynamic. I could tell that the people were trying to suck up to Mark. You know, laughing a little too hard as his lame jokes, that sort of thing. It was sickening.
Mark obviously thought he was terribly funny as he was wearing a Santa hat. His wife, Lisa, was dressed as gorgeous as usual. She was tall, blonde and thin. I am short and always had to struggle to maintain my weight. I was envious of her. She also had a coach handbag and Gucci shoes. Now I am not materialistic, but it is fun to see how the other half lives.
I always though Mark and Lisa made an odd couple. He is so outgoing and she is quiet to the point of almost being cold. I always thought of ice when I saw Lisa.
Even though I was busy making sure everyone was happy, Mark found time to speak to me through much of the party. He asked me about my career as a teacher. He asked about my kids. He really seemed like a different guy. He almost seemed charming.
It was funny, because everyone else was always trying to talk to him. And I was not that interested, but he always seemed to gravitate towards me.
Looking back on it, I must admit part of me secretly enjoyed the attention. I had always just been plain and boring Amy – teacher and mother of two kids. And now I had one of the richest and most dynamic men in the area focusing on me!
Looking back on it I regret that I did not try to cool him off. I suppose I could blame the two glasses of wine. But I felt like Cinderella. For the first time in a long time I felt beautiful and desirable. And I suppose I flirted back. I maintained eye contact and I returned his smiles. And when his eyes would glance down at my dress, it didn’t bother me. I guess I was enjoying the magical ball.
And metaphorically, midnight struck. And the magical spell ended.
As people started to leave the party, I got their coats that I had thrown on my bed upstairs. As I was retrieving the coats for a couple, I was startled to see Mark standing behind me. I had not heard him enter the room. He just stood there for a second with a mischievous grin on his face. Then he lightly closed the bedroom door.
I had not bothered to turn on the bedroom light when I entered the room. The light from the hall was enough for me to find the proper coats. But when Mark closed the door, the only light was that from the outside street lights that shone through the bedroom window. It now seemed as if I was standing in a black and white movie as everything was a shade of grey.
In retrospect I suppose I should have been frightened. But the couple of glasses of wine gave me a sense of invulnerability. And I considered Mark to be a silly flirt, but quite harmless. And, anyway, there were still 20 people downstairs. So it was not like I was alone in the house.
I fetched his and Lisa’s coat off the bed and handed it to him. As I attempted to hand him their coats, he ignored the coats and instead grasped my hands. Unit that moment I never quite internalized how tall he was. My hands felt so small within his. He looked down at me and said that he wanted to thank me for the wonderful party.
For a moment I became woozy and I lost my brave composure. In my years of marriage I had never desired another man. I was 100% committed to my husband. I loved him. He was my rock. He is the father of my children. The thought of thinking of another man in sexual terns seemed ridiculous. And, yet, now I was quite aroused.
The moment passed as I caught a glimpse of family picture on the wall behind Mark. The picture was taken the Easter prior at one of those chain photo places. My two daughters were standing in front of Jeff and me in their new Sunday dresses. We looked like such a happy family. That reminded me that what I was doing was wrong.
I regained my composure and told him that I am glad he enjoyed the party. I half-heatedly tried to break my hands free from his grasp, but he was too strong. I laughed and told him to stop being silly, people were waiting for me to bring their coats downstairs. He told me that the price of letting me go was a kiss. I remember thinking how silly such a line was. I turned my head and told him he could kiss my cheek.
He bent down and kissed my cheek. Then he kissed my lips. I would like to say that I resisted his kiss, but I didn’t. And when our tongues touched, wow, I felt as if a bolt of lightning went through my body. I had not experienced that feeling in years. I had again lost my composure and was playing with fire.
As we kissed his hands slid down my body. When I felt his hands go up my dress and touch my thighs, it was like an alarm went off. I asked myself - WHAT AM I DOING? I am a Christian mother who loves her husband. I do not do this sort of thing. Instantly, I was horrified at my actions.
I told Mark to stop. I told him that this was wrong and we needed to stop. He ignored me and pressed me against the bedroom wall.
Then a wave of fear overwhelmed me. How could I have been so stupid to let this escalate to such a level? I again told Mark to stop. I said it was no longer funny and he had to stop now. Mark responded by pulling down my pantyhose. Now I was in a panic. I struggled as hard as I could, but I was pinned against the wall. I weigh 120 pounds and I am sure he is over 200.
I thought of crying for help, but he was pressing so hard against me I was having troubles breathing. And part of me couldn’t believe that this was actually happening to me. As he lowered his pants, I started to plead with him that he didn’t want to do this.
He put his arms around me and lifted me off the floor. My back was pinned to the wall. And before I could think, I felt his penis entering me.
I was a virgin when I married Jeff. I had never known another man. So I didn’t exactly have any other point of reference. But Mark felt huge. And he was rough. It was painful. Degrading. And I had quickly started to have contractions. At first I didn’t realize I was having an orgasm. He continued to roughly penetrate me and another orgasmic wave overcame me. Then another.
I remember biting hard on his shoulder to muffle my screams. I don’t remember my thoughts at this time. I was reduced to almost a primal state. I had never in my life been in such a condition in which I literally could not think. It was like my body was on auto-pilot.
Then I felt the warmth of his semen dripping down my thigh. He sat me down on the bedroom floor. He zipped up and casually got his coat and his wife’s coat off the bed. And then he left without saying a word.
Next post… the aftermath.
But my husband kept pleading his case saying that it would be “no big deal” because only about 10 couples would attend. We don’t have a large home, but I figured we could accommodate around 20 people if we move stuff around. So I relented and agreed to the party.
A week later, my husband dropped a bomb shell. Mark had heard about the party and he wanted to know if he could attend. It seems that Mark does this on occasion to show that he is employee friendly and is not above rubbing elbows with the rest of us.
I was horrified. How could I be responsible for planning a party that the CEO and his wife would attend? I was not sure what rich people expected at parties. Does the upper class eat chip and dip? What would I wear? Would the house be a mess?
I tried to convince Jeff to cancel the party. But he told me he was not worried and that it would be impossible to cancel anyway. I thought – sure you don’t have to worry, you are not doing anything!
I decided to have the party catered to help reduce my stress level. And when the people arrived, everything actually started out well. People seemed to be enjoying the food, drinks and Christmas music.
When Mark and Lisa arrived it changed the dynamic. I could tell that the people were trying to suck up to Mark. You know, laughing a little too hard as his lame jokes, that sort of thing. It was sickening.
Mark obviously thought he was terribly funny as he was wearing a Santa hat. His wife, Lisa, was dressed as gorgeous as usual. She was tall, blonde and thin. I am short and always had to struggle to maintain my weight. I was envious of her. She also had a coach handbag and Gucci shoes. Now I am not materialistic, but it is fun to see how the other half lives.
I always though Mark and Lisa made an odd couple. He is so outgoing and she is quiet to the point of almost being cold. I always thought of ice when I saw Lisa.
Even though I was busy making sure everyone was happy, Mark found time to speak to me through much of the party. He asked me about my career as a teacher. He asked about my kids. He really seemed like a different guy. He almost seemed charming.
It was funny, because everyone else was always trying to talk to him. And I was not that interested, but he always seemed to gravitate towards me.
Looking back on it, I must admit part of me secretly enjoyed the attention. I had always just been plain and boring Amy – teacher and mother of two kids. And now I had one of the richest and most dynamic men in the area focusing on me!
Looking back on it I regret that I did not try to cool him off. I suppose I could blame the two glasses of wine. But I felt like Cinderella. For the first time in a long time I felt beautiful and desirable. And I suppose I flirted back. I maintained eye contact and I returned his smiles. And when his eyes would glance down at my dress, it didn’t bother me. I guess I was enjoying the magical ball.
And metaphorically, midnight struck. And the magical spell ended.
As people started to leave the party, I got their coats that I had thrown on my bed upstairs. As I was retrieving the coats for a couple, I was startled to see Mark standing behind me. I had not heard him enter the room. He just stood there for a second with a mischievous grin on his face. Then he lightly closed the bedroom door.
I had not bothered to turn on the bedroom light when I entered the room. The light from the hall was enough for me to find the proper coats. But when Mark closed the door, the only light was that from the outside street lights that shone through the bedroom window. It now seemed as if I was standing in a black and white movie as everything was a shade of grey.
In retrospect I suppose I should have been frightened. But the couple of glasses of wine gave me a sense of invulnerability. And I considered Mark to be a silly flirt, but quite harmless. And, anyway, there were still 20 people downstairs. So it was not like I was alone in the house.
I fetched his and Lisa’s coat off the bed and handed it to him. As I attempted to hand him their coats, he ignored the coats and instead grasped my hands. Unit that moment I never quite internalized how tall he was. My hands felt so small within his. He looked down at me and said that he wanted to thank me for the wonderful party.
For a moment I became woozy and I lost my brave composure. In my years of marriage I had never desired another man. I was 100% committed to my husband. I loved him. He was my rock. He is the father of my children. The thought of thinking of another man in sexual terns seemed ridiculous. And, yet, now I was quite aroused.
The moment passed as I caught a glimpse of family picture on the wall behind Mark. The picture was taken the Easter prior at one of those chain photo places. My two daughters were standing in front of Jeff and me in their new Sunday dresses. We looked like such a happy family. That reminded me that what I was doing was wrong.
I regained my composure and told him that I am glad he enjoyed the party. I half-heatedly tried to break my hands free from his grasp, but he was too strong. I laughed and told him to stop being silly, people were waiting for me to bring their coats downstairs. He told me that the price of letting me go was a kiss. I remember thinking how silly such a line was. I turned my head and told him he could kiss my cheek.
He bent down and kissed my cheek. Then he kissed my lips. I would like to say that I resisted his kiss, but I didn’t. And when our tongues touched, wow, I felt as if a bolt of lightning went through my body. I had not experienced that feeling in years. I had again lost my composure and was playing with fire.
As we kissed his hands slid down my body. When I felt his hands go up my dress and touch my thighs, it was like an alarm went off. I asked myself - WHAT AM I DOING? I am a Christian mother who loves her husband. I do not do this sort of thing. Instantly, I was horrified at my actions.
I told Mark to stop. I told him that this was wrong and we needed to stop. He ignored me and pressed me against the bedroom wall.
Then a wave of fear overwhelmed me. How could I have been so stupid to let this escalate to such a level? I again told Mark to stop. I said it was no longer funny and he had to stop now. Mark responded by pulling down my pantyhose. Now I was in a panic. I struggled as hard as I could, but I was pinned against the wall. I weigh 120 pounds and I am sure he is over 200.
I thought of crying for help, but he was pressing so hard against me I was having troubles breathing. And part of me couldn’t believe that this was actually happening to me. As he lowered his pants, I started to plead with him that he didn’t want to do this.
He put his arms around me and lifted me off the floor. My back was pinned to the wall. And before I could think, I felt his penis entering me.
I was a virgin when I married Jeff. I had never known another man. So I didn’t exactly have any other point of reference. But Mark felt huge. And he was rough. It was painful. Degrading. And I had quickly started to have contractions. At first I didn’t realize I was having an orgasm. He continued to roughly penetrate me and another orgasmic wave overcame me. Then another.
I remember biting hard on his shoulder to muffle my screams. I don’t remember my thoughts at this time. I was reduced to almost a primal state. I had never in my life been in such a condition in which I literally could not think. It was like my body was on auto-pilot.
Then I felt the warmth of his semen dripping down my thigh. He sat me down on the bedroom floor. He zipped up and casually got his coat and his wife’s coat off the bed. And then he left without saying a word.
Next post… the aftermath.
Monday, March 23, 2009
How I Met Him
This post will explain how I initially met Mark, who later became my lover. (btw – I hate that term “lover”, because there was no love. But that is probably the subject of another post.)
(As with all of my posts I will be changing the names and any specific details that could identify the people involved.)
My husband works for a medium size bio-tech firm. He started with the company in the 1990s as the company was experiencing quite a bit of growth. He works in property accounting. While not a glamorous job, he has always seems to enjoy his work. It is basically the nine to five type of office job with pretty good benefits. He could probably make more money with a larger corporation, but I think he likes the family type environment on a medium size business. And that suits Jeff’s personality. He has always preferred stability over risks. I actually also share that trait.
One of the founders of the firm is Mark. My husband rarely had much contact with Mark. Mark is the CEO and my husband is more of a worker bee. However, as the firm is not that large (only a couple thousand people worldwide) most people know each other.
My only contact with Mark over the years was at various company social functions. These were typically company banquets or award ceremonies, that type of thing. People would attend with their spouses. And Mark was always there with his wife Lisa.
Mark has a reputation of being a rather flamboyant personality. (His business partner is actually the opposite in personality.) For example, at a formal charity banquet he showed up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. People either tend to find him obnoxious or funny. My vote was always for the former. Of course, as he is the owner, most of the people laugh at his antics.
Even though Mark is married, my husband told me that he had a reputation as a ladies’ man. However, everyone always excused his behavior by saying this was all just an act and his over the top flirting was just done tongue in cheek.
So even though I was prepared for his obnoxious manner, I still was taken aback when I first met him. It was at a formal end of the quarter awards ceremony. When my husband introduced me to Mark he literally looked me up and down. And I HATE it when men do that.
Then he turned to Jeff and said that he really married out of his league. After that snide comment, he looked back at me and asked me if my breasts were real! Mind you, this was in front of my husband and 15 or so people standing around with drinks in their hands. Everyone laughed, but I was offended. I could feel myself blush and I was SO embarrassed.
I am not a prude, but I hate to be objectified in such a manner. And it was not like I was wearing a provocative dress that exposed much cleavage. But instead of treating me like a person, Mark chose to have a laugh at my expense.
After we went home, I broke down in tears. I was hurt in being treated in such a manner. But I was mostly hurt that my husband did not protect me. My husband told me that I was being silly and I needed to get over it. He also said that there was nothing he could do because Mark was the CEO.
So I initially disliked Mark and I never overcame that dislike of him. But I knew that a few times a year I would have to interact with him at various company functions, so I promised myself that I would not let his crude comments bother me. When he made some stupid comment to me, I would now laugh and make a verbal jab back at him. I gave him the nickname of “giraffe” because he looks like a giraffe. He is tall and gangly with a long neck. This nickname actually stuck and Mark thought it was funny.
So over the years, Mark would never fail to make some flirtatious comment to me. But as he did this with most of the girls, it ceased to bother me. I learned to laugh and make fun of him in return.
Did I find Mark to be attractive? No, I always thought he look ridiculous. Did I find him sexually appealing? The very thought would have made me laugh!
But then Christmas of 2006 came and everything changed. I supposed that will be the subject of my next post.
(As with all of my posts I will be changing the names and any specific details that could identify the people involved.)
My husband works for a medium size bio-tech firm. He started with the company in the 1990s as the company was experiencing quite a bit of growth. He works in property accounting. While not a glamorous job, he has always seems to enjoy his work. It is basically the nine to five type of office job with pretty good benefits. He could probably make more money with a larger corporation, but I think he likes the family type environment on a medium size business. And that suits Jeff’s personality. He has always preferred stability over risks. I actually also share that trait.
One of the founders of the firm is Mark. My husband rarely had much contact with Mark. Mark is the CEO and my husband is more of a worker bee. However, as the firm is not that large (only a couple thousand people worldwide) most people know each other.
My only contact with Mark over the years was at various company social functions. These were typically company banquets or award ceremonies, that type of thing. People would attend with their spouses. And Mark was always there with his wife Lisa.
Mark has a reputation of being a rather flamboyant personality. (His business partner is actually the opposite in personality.) For example, at a formal charity banquet he showed up wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. People either tend to find him obnoxious or funny. My vote was always for the former. Of course, as he is the owner, most of the people laugh at his antics.
Even though Mark is married, my husband told me that he had a reputation as a ladies’ man. However, everyone always excused his behavior by saying this was all just an act and his over the top flirting was just done tongue in cheek.
So even though I was prepared for his obnoxious manner, I still was taken aback when I first met him. It was at a formal end of the quarter awards ceremony. When my husband introduced me to Mark he literally looked me up and down. And I HATE it when men do that.
Then he turned to Jeff and said that he really married out of his league. After that snide comment, he looked back at me and asked me if my breasts were real! Mind you, this was in front of my husband and 15 or so people standing around with drinks in their hands. Everyone laughed, but I was offended. I could feel myself blush and I was SO embarrassed.
I am not a prude, but I hate to be objectified in such a manner. And it was not like I was wearing a provocative dress that exposed much cleavage. But instead of treating me like a person, Mark chose to have a laugh at my expense.
After we went home, I broke down in tears. I was hurt in being treated in such a manner. But I was mostly hurt that my husband did not protect me. My husband told me that I was being silly and I needed to get over it. He also said that there was nothing he could do because Mark was the CEO.
So I initially disliked Mark and I never overcame that dislike of him. But I knew that a few times a year I would have to interact with him at various company functions, so I promised myself that I would not let his crude comments bother me. When he made some stupid comment to me, I would now laugh and make a verbal jab back at him. I gave him the nickname of “giraffe” because he looks like a giraffe. He is tall and gangly with a long neck. This nickname actually stuck and Mark thought it was funny.
So over the years, Mark would never fail to make some flirtatious comment to me. But as he did this with most of the girls, it ceased to bother me. I learned to laugh and make fun of him in return.
Did I find Mark to be attractive? No, I always thought he look ridiculous. Did I find him sexually appealing? The very thought would have made me laugh!
But then Christmas of 2006 came and everything changed. I supposed that will be the subject of my next post.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Feelings of Guilt
Wow… I have a follower! I never thought that would happen. Please excuse my rambling thoughts. This blog is mostly a journal that allows me to think through some issues.
I know this sounds cliché, but I never thought I was the type of woman ever to have an affair. My faith has always been important to me. And I suppose I am something of a freak, I actually was a virgin when I married.
My husband (I will call him Jeff) has always been everything I wanted. He is wonderful with the children. He is kind and compassionate. We never argue and he is always supportive of me. He cooks and helps me around the house. In many ways he is a dream husband. And, yet, I had this affair for over two years. What does that say about me?
The man (Mark) I had an affair with is the total opposite of my husband. He is obnoxious and mean spirited. I did not love Mark, In fact, I don’t even like Mark. In many ways I hate him. And, yet, he brought out a dark side of my sexuality that I never knew existed.
Mark was abusive emotionally and physically to me. And, yet, like an alcoholic always goes back to a drink even though he knows it will make him sick, I kept going back to Mark. In many ways I think my affair was an addiction.
Mostly I feel so much guilt. Guilt over my sweet husband. Guilt over my kids. Guilt over Mark’s wife and his kids. But mostly, I have disappointed myself. How could I ever have such low self-esteem that I would allow a man to treat me as his play thing?
Despite my relief of have ending this situation, I find that I still crave him. I hope that feeling goes away.
I know this sounds cliché, but I never thought I was the type of woman ever to have an affair. My faith has always been important to me. And I suppose I am something of a freak, I actually was a virgin when I married.
My husband (I will call him Jeff) has always been everything I wanted. He is wonderful with the children. He is kind and compassionate. We never argue and he is always supportive of me. He cooks and helps me around the house. In many ways he is a dream husband. And, yet, I had this affair for over two years. What does that say about me?
The man (Mark) I had an affair with is the total opposite of my husband. He is obnoxious and mean spirited. I did not love Mark, In fact, I don’t even like Mark. In many ways I hate him. And, yet, he brought out a dark side of my sexuality that I never knew existed.
Mark was abusive emotionally and physically to me. And, yet, like an alcoholic always goes back to a drink even though he knows it will make him sick, I kept going back to Mark. In many ways I think my affair was an addiction.
Mostly I feel so much guilt. Guilt over my sweet husband. Guilt over my kids. Guilt over Mark’s wife and his kids. But mostly, I have disappointed myself. How could I ever have such low self-esteem that I would allow a man to treat me as his play thing?
Despite my relief of have ending this situation, I find that I still crave him. I hope that feeling goes away.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Free at last!
I finally ended today a destructive affair that has lasted over two years! Looking back, I can’t believe the depths I have sank over the past two years.
I doubt that anyone will read this blog. Mostly I see this as a journal to help me with my recovery. I will also look back at what happened and try to figure out where I went wrong.
My story is too long to relate in one post. I will probably share details as I re-evaluate what happened.
My thoughts are scattered. I apologize if this post seems to be a random mess.
I have experienced the range of emotions from relief to utter depression. Even though I ended it, I can’t believe that it is over. I have been crying most the day. My poor husband doesn’t know what is wrong with me.
Should I tell him the truth? Or would that just unnecessarily hurt him?
I don’t know. Those questions can wait. I just need to get through the night.
I doubt that anyone will read this blog. Mostly I see this as a journal to help me with my recovery. I will also look back at what happened and try to figure out where I went wrong.
My story is too long to relate in one post. I will probably share details as I re-evaluate what happened.
My thoughts are scattered. I apologize if this post seems to be a random mess.
I have experienced the range of emotions from relief to utter depression. Even though I ended it, I can’t believe that it is over. I have been crying most the day. My poor husband doesn’t know what is wrong with me.
Should I tell him the truth? Or would that just unnecessarily hurt him?
I don’t know. Those questions can wait. I just need to get through the night.
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