After it was decided, "it" being the divorce, I kept finding things out. I wasn't sleuthing, trust me, I was done looking for trouble. (Incidentally, I found out that I am a pretty fierce PI. Once my gut told me, I Carmen SanDiego'd the ish out of the affair. So if you ever need help...) But little pieces of information kept presenting themselves to me. Timelines and receipts and lies that just weren't adding up. I guess it was to be expected. Whether he thought he was a good liar or he just didn't care, I'll never know. He didn't seem sorry. He said sorry. He texted sorry. But he didn't act sorry and I had had enough lying to know that it was only actions that mattered.
For some reason, it made me feel like I was invisible. Like he wasn't seeing me or the damage he caused. Like the kids and I were inconsequential. I decided that I would go see the girlfriend. You see, I knew her. We had met. We were friends on facebook. She had met my children. She had held my baby. I was not some amorphous idea of a wife. She knew me. She knew my family. But she did not know my life.
I needed her to see me. She knew that I knew. Once I found the instagram messages, I had written to them both that they didn't need to use that medium anymore, they could text, as I had seen enough. You see, at one point, she had said she didn't like using instagram because it put a bad taste in her mouth. But she had neglected to realize that being still married, we shared a cell phone bill and I could see the records. They couldn't text or I would see. And the house of cards would come falling down.
I went to her workplace. Not my best move. But not my worst. She was one of only three people there. I didn't make a huge scene. I am still a lady! I stood and waited. She didn't even recognize me at first. She had immediately blocked me from all social media so maybe that's why. (Incidentally #2, I always figured it would be the wife that gets to block the mistress. I was kind of annoyed that she beat me to it. But maybe she had already learned from previous escapades.) I asked her outright - Are you still dating my husband? Her answer - No, no. I nodded in affirmation, started to cry and said - Ok, ok. Then she started to walk away from me. I called after her - You destroyed my family.
Did she? Not really. He did. And if it wasn't her it would have been some other girl that would promise him all he wasn't getting at home. But the reality is, he was married. He was in marital therapy. And he had never bothered to tell me he was unhappy or wanted out. I had to learn that by reading their messages. But she should have known better. It's not because she is young. I was her age once. I didn't mess with married men. They were off-limits. It's not age. It's character.
And that's the thing. I stood in front of her and realized how small and inconsequential she is. It wasn't her he wanted. It was out that he wanted. She was the excuse. Did it hurt to see them say they loved each other? Yep. Still does sometimes. But as I stood there, drawn up to my tallest height, I realized that my character is strong and true and something to be proud of. I walked out of her workplace like a mother fucking queen. Stuff strutting. Crown on. Power back where it belonged. With me.
I can't believe I did it. I am glad I did though. I needed her to SEE me. And once it was over, I was relieved and light and done. It. Felt. Amazing. I felt free. She rarely crosses my mind at this point. That being said, I am a firm believer in karma. Cheers to that.
Thanks for coming along on this journey with me. Think that what I am saying is worth sharing? Please do. It'll help a girl out!