Ms. Two Cheating Hearts has posted the next part of her affair story here. Her story is hard to read but compelling because I can see so much of my own affair being played out in hers. I find myself saying “don’t do it!” and yet I want to see what happens next. I know what happens next because I’ve lived my own version of it in all it’s awful glory.
Anyway, I started replying to her post but I made it about a paragraph in and realized I wasn’t so much commenting on her post as writing my own self-centered post. I already have a place for that kind of thing – my blog.
But there was also a new element to our marriage post-confession. One that got under my nerves more than anything else. I suddenly had a “yes” husband. I can’t describe it any other way than to say he had become….a wet noodle. He had no backbone whatsoever. And despite being the leader in our marriage, I too needed a soft place to rest my head. I wanted someone stronger than me. Someone to be the leader in our marriage. This wasn’t something I just wanted on a whim. I had desired this dynamic our entire marriage. But now, I craved it. Immensely. Like in the most primal of ways. It had always been lacking in our marriage, but I had somehow been able to quell those desires. But post-confession, my husband changed. And I needed and wanted that alpha-male leader dynamic more than ever.
This sounds familiar. I’m concerned that I’ve become a wet noodle since my own affair. My wife has also had a consistent complaint since we got married about my being too compliant, too much of a yes-husband. With my struggles with depression in particular I worry that I’ve become an overweight, asexual, passive blob of a husband. In other words, not a very attractive man to pretty much any woman.
It’s a tough position to be in. I’ve screwed up my marriage so badly, it’s hard to strike a balance between being supportive and understanding and being a wussy pushover.
And yeah, my wife is an attractive woman. I do worry that some super alpha guy is going to come along and be just the perfect thing for her to lose herself to. As I’ve written about previously, this has almost happened once before already.
I guess the other thing that got me in that post is talking about the racing heart and the dancing back and forth. In the early stages of the affair, I remember the racing heart of thinking I would have a chance to talk to or see Scarlet when I went to work. I remember my own little dance of avoiding and chasing, caught between my desires and my duty to not go to far.
Words cannot express how much I hate that I didn’t do the right thing. Instead of a garage, it was a conference room and I wish I had just run out of there like my life depended on it. I know what I felt and I know why I didn’t, but I wish to God I hadn’t even walked in there. I may not know the details of the next chapter in TCH’s story, but I know what the chapter holds – lines that can’t be uncrossed, actions that can’t be undone, memories that can’t be forgotten, swirling emotions that won’t be quiet. I hate it but I look forward to the next chapter.