Friends, Squatters and Lurkers--Life in a fishbowl

[Underdog]

Linda--Thanks for your thoughts! I hear what you're saying and I think I'm gonna do something about it. Let me know how the EAS bar works long term. I'm down 1 more lb. and am getting closer by the day.

Pen--I haven't put that on hold at all. In fact, when Mr. W. called last night and I found myself not in the mood to chat, THAT's when I figured out I was angry with him for his part in this drama and figured out that I still had work to do forgiving him too.

No, it took him 6 months to leave after I told him about OM. He didn't even ask me to stop talking to him--that was something I figured out that I needed to do on my own. How I told him... well, that was a very weird story all by itself.

Some bizarre stuff was being discussed by OM--things with a distinct sexual nature. I was heading back east with D10 and Mr. W. was taking D7 to Montana. Well, a very dramatic twist came into the story with OM and I began feeling the effects of how wrong the whole picture really was.

I began to wish/pray for some big reason for me to be able to cancel my trip without losing $800 of airfare (for 2 of us). A few hours later, I went to pick up D7 from daycare (which was right next to my office) so that Mr. W. could exchange cars with me and get headed north... meanwhile, D10 and I were scheduled to leave bright and early the next morning.

As D7 (then D5) sat on my lap, I began to sense something very wrong. She began to vomit and entered one of her cyclic vomiting episodes--which are actually seizures. She was in the hospital within 2 hours and all of us had to cancel our trips. It was divine intervention at its finest.

To this day, I thank God and whoever else for granting my prayer at her expense. I'm very grateful for that, though I hate watching my baby hurt and for knowing she suffered.

Anyway, we got her out of the hospital the following afternoon. The next morning, Mr. Wonderful had gotten up early and come back upstairs to bring me coffee--only to find me sobbing. I told him I needed to talk to him. He reacted so stoically and unemotionally. As if I had told him I saw a neighbor hit someone else's dog. Like he didn't care? But nonetheless, he hugged me and held me like he hadn't done before.

That was July 2002. He moved out January 2003. So you see, there was quite a bit of time in between. I had also just begun counseling. After I told him the truth was when I decided to come clean with the C. THEN she was able to help me. At that point, I was still undecided as to whether or not I was going to stay... I had been hell bent on leaving him for quite some time.

I have forgiven him for leaving and for sitting on the fence. I just have to work on what led up to it.

So I have to say I appreciate your insight to this and for asking the tough questions. Obviously, I need them. Your final question? Yes, I think he was going to leave anyway. Otherwise, he'd have given me a shot at fixing things, wouldn't he? At the VERY least, he would have talked to me about things that bothered him? He didn't. That came with the notice that he was leaving after Christmas and needed the checkbook to put down a deposit on an apartment close to work....

Ugh. You'd think that memory wouldn't hurt after a couple years, but it still does. Not sure if it's the shame or the sequence of events or the memory or all of it. In the end, who really cares? I can only change what happens here and out.

Betsey