(All names are changed)
December
3, 2009
I won’t deny that the thought of Jerry going to Texas isn’t
always in the back of my mind. I try to push it away, but it’s there, plain as
day, taunting me. My subconscious, which I symbolically hold underwater, keeps trying
to gasp for air, wanting to surface, to scream out, “He’s thinking of her. He’s probably in touch with her. They are probably laughing at you
and her husband for being so stupid!”
I wonder why I care. I’ve been pulling away from my bond to
him for the last few years now, thinking it will help me get over all the hurt
he causes. But this does bother me. It’s not right. It’s a betrayal. We’re
married.
We’ve had the conversation before that if someone wants out
of a marriage, they should get a divorce first, then start a new relationship. Jerry was a bishop, for heaven’s
sake. He knows that.
Tonight I repressed my thoughts, as usual, and sat on the
loveseat, crocheting until my wrist hurt from the repetitive motion. Like a
robot, I watched television and worked the hook and yarn as if asleep but awake
at the same time.
Jerry came down from his “man cave” and stood at the
entrance of the family room. After trying to act nonchalant, he began talking
about her. “I just emailed her and
she said she’s disappointed we’re not coming to Texas.”
“You what?” My legs brought the recliner up with a bang.
“You’re still emailing her?” I knew it.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
I threw down the yarn. “Listen to me. You are treading on
thin ice,” I said, furious, as I stood up to face him. “She is a married woman
and you are a married man. Think about what you’re doing.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t email her again,” he said before he
ambled back upstairs.
He wasn’t lying, or, at least, I didn’t think he was. He did
other things rather than email. I decided to check out his new Facebook page
that I knew nothing about until his little trip to Texas. He still hasn’t
“friended” me.
When I saw his page, my mouth dropped open. Adrenaline
coursed throughout my body. I saw he had sent her a heart. I didn’t know you
could do such a thing, so I followed the trail to her Facebook page. She wasn’t feeling well so he sent her some
little love note heart to make her feel better.
I haven’t said anything to him yet. I want to watch to see
what else transpires over Facebook. I check his page every day. He spends
considerable time uploading pictures of himself and she comments about how
great he looks.
I noticed, in a day or so after the heart, she changed her
profile picture from one of her and her husband, to one of just her, posed with
a big smile, like she was beaming at him.
December
4, 2009
Jerry changed his Facebook
profile. I guess he wants her to see him in his element, with his bicycle, in
his latex, skin-tight clothes. She commented on his picture: “You look really
fit.” Blech!
December
6, 2009
When the Facebook banter accelerated, I decided I would make
a comment after a comment she made so
he would know I was watching. I thought it prudent since our kids have started
to post on his page, welcoming him to Facebook, even though he's been on FB since August. Hrmph. His posts must have started showing up on their FB pages because I posted something and we're all friends.
Funny how he responds to her posts, but to none of ours. Not once.
He is now fully aware that I know about his FB chats and comments. I
told him it was inappropriate. He didn’t agree.
“You always tell me I’m too skinny,” he said. “She told me I look ‘fit.’” He stuck his nose
up and chin out, triumphant.
"Yeah," I thought, "She doesn't live with you and know you compulsively starved yourself by eating yogurt for every meal for months." Even the kids were worried. He shaved his head, lost weight, and looked like a cancer survivor.
This is so juvenile. I don't want to play this game.
I shouldn't have to!
. . . to be continued
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