The Thinking Other Woman

What you should know BEFORE your affair.
 

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What's Changed In Seven Years, Book One

Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on March 20, 2022 at 8:15 AM

Coming up on May 28th, it will be seven years since this guy dumped me to go into marriage counseling with his wife (good), and then stayed even though he wasn't happy with the outcome (who knows whether that was good or not. A lot can change in four and a half years.)


I know the guy hangs around here. That would seem to imply that staying wasn't a good thing ... but who knows? He could just be worried that I'm not okay and the whole thing scarred me for life. (Although, if you were happy at home, one would think you'd just fahgedaboudit.) I haven't got a CLUE if that guy has done any work on himself, his codependency, or his low self-worth. Considering the "It's too depressing" mindset I encountered years ago, however, my bet would be "no."


I, however, have changed a lot. (That happens when you work your ass off.) I reflected, in the shower last night, that I am never, ever going to know what actually happened with this guy, their marriage, his feelings, or indeed anything else. A person who lurks and doesn't speak is a person you will know nothing further about.


I remember when he disappeared for about a month this winter. Interesting how there are horoscope transits reflecting communication every time he starts showing up again. However, can you really call this communication?


I think you can, because whether he speaks or not, he's here. If he's here, he's thinking about me. And I, of course, think about him. It's communication in that we each know we are still thinking about each other, and we each know we are still favorably disposed. (Because, if we were angry at one another, or we hated each other, I would be ripping him a new one on here, and he wouldn't be hanging around.) One has to wonder, Is this a good thing?


I know, and this may not be a good thing, that if he suddenly disappeared and never showed up here again, I would be very sad. This would not be a good thing because I am just supposed to fahgedaboudhim, move on, and basically experience total amnesia in this regard. At least, that is what is commonly written that healthy people do.


To be sure, you don't entirely forget anyone you were once in a relationship with. I certainly don't ever forget my late husband, and I think of him at least once a day. The guy before that, I think of from time to time, but I certainly don't miss that person or wish he was visiting here! I do at times abstractly wonder if he's still married to the chick he rushed to the altar with after he dumped me. I do at times wonder what happened there. From the tales I heard it didn't sound altogether healthy, and I believe I may have dodged a bullet with that guy. And I sometimes feel some snarky feelings with regard to this, and it's like, Why? What's the purpose of that? I got together with my husband, we had a great relationship and a wonderful marriage. I was better off.


Until this happened. Which isn't quite a fair thing to say, because, although it was seven years of harrowing pain and misery, I AM still better off. I am better off that it DID happen than I would be if it DIDN'T happen.


It seems hideously unfair and particularly cruel that this is true for children of very unhealthy homes--that if you grew up in an unhealthy home, then you grew up in a LOT of pain, which you can then only cure by ... ta da! Experiencing further relationships that throw you into a LOT of pain. (What's the point of life, then? To just BE MISERABLE???)


Well, actually, the point of OUR lives is to a,) BE MISERABLE, and then b.) LEARN FROM IT.


If you had a miserable heartbreak, but you didn't learn anything from it, you've missed the point, and you MAY have to come back down here in ANOTHER miserable life and repeat it. (And I can show you where that is in your horoscope.) At the very least, you are going to keep on suffering from it in this life, an unhappy--and definitely undesirable--scenario.


One of these days, this person WILL disappear and never come back. We're going to be 54 and 64, and things like strokes, dementia, cancer, and heart disease have a way of happening. If that happens, I will never know what happened unless there's an obituary I can look up. However, if a person is maimed but not killed by a miserable illness, that obituary would be a long time coming. Something tells me I would be looking and hunting around, trying to find out how the person was, and able to find nothing, since the one person I'm still in contact with who used to see him other places isn't in his friends list even on Facebook anymore.


Why be sad because this person disappears one day? After all, it could mean things are finally the way they should be with his wife. Really, that's something to celebrate, since no one wants to spend all of their days unhappy with someone. And I don't want him to spend all of his days unhappy.


Here's an aspect of this many consider to be problematic. In the "To Tell Or Not To Tell That You Cheated" debate, some therapists argue that as long as you do not tell the secret that you cheated to your spouse, you are closer to your affair partner. The two of you share a secret the spouse is excluded from. The two of you have "put one over on her."


Of course, there is the consideration that some spouses are too fragile emotionally to handle the truth or to make good use of the news. There is that. But the rest of the spouses didn't get to make an informed decision about their life based on all the facts. (Such as, "If I had any idea you were about to leave me for another woman, maybe I would have chosen to apply myself in therapy!" Which assumes, of course, that the person has the capacity to apply themselves in therapy.) 


This whole issue would imply that I enjoy having this secret with the guy, that I'm closer in that way to him than anyone else, even though we've chosen not to pursue a relationship. Guess so, if one day all evidence of that is gone forever, and I feel sad.


There are valid reasons for this. One, as I've written here before, is that I'm utterly alone in the world, with no one who would give a shit, basically, if I get cancer or have a heart attack or a stroke. If that happened to me, at least one person in the world would care.


(Well, now that isn't true. My therapist volunteered last week to be my "emergency person" since I don't have anyone, and this is a great relief, because even if Chi DID care, I obviously could never, EVER call on him for help. I can employ the firm that does my taxes to serve as executor if I pass away, so now that I have an "emergency person," I don't have to worry that there's no way to take care of essential things WHEN, not IF, I encounter a life-threatening event or terminal illness.)


I'm going to be 54. My late husband's first wife died at this age, and I'm fat. It's not unheard of.


Another valid reason to be glad we're still connected, even if only in this tenuous way, is that if one is struggling in one's life, it's good to know that another person is still thinking of one, rooting for one, even if they have no other way to communicate that, and it isn't appropriate to ever speak or see one another again. Silent support can be a good thing in an environment where you don't otherwise have any, because the people around you don't understand what's really going on with you.


Then we come to the not-OK reasons for being glad the guy is still here and sorry if they're not. The things like a competitive sense of, "I knew I would have made him happier than her!" or, "I was right about this all along! Maybe I can still get him back!" The latter is just plain petty and mean. The former is simply inaccurate. And I'll have more to say about that next post. 


Lastly, there's what metaphysics has to say about all this. Yep, astrology, tarot, New Age spirituality, and things of that sort. I guess I will just leave that, although I know what that viewpoint is, because there isn't any way to prove it. Well: Correction. You can't prove it unless it happens. The fact that it didn't happen doesn't make the theory any less valid; we just chose not to do it. So now you have nothing concrete to point to show that it's real, that's all.

"I knew I would have made him happier!" next post.             

Categories: Life Lessons, Current Happenings