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| Some things can't be swept under the rug. |
One luxurious evening, as we sat sipping a bold Cabernet my peaceful bliss was interrupted by a real shitty conversation. My husband of 18 years confessed that he'd had an affair!
Him:
"I need to tell you about something that I'm really sorry for ~ It's completely over and I just wanted to tell you ~ If you want, we can go to counseling ~ Well, I already made an appointment for us to see the counselor ~ We'd been speaking casually over the years and one day it just happened ~ It was the girl that I'd broken up with before I met you ~ I don't love her ~ I love you ~ Really, I just want to make things right with us"
Me:
"If it's something that will negatively impact me, you might want to keep it to yourself ~ Okay, who? ~ Who was it? ~ I don't want to know anything about the counselor or counseling, I want to know who ~ Wait, you've been carrying on with the tramp that you quit because she screwed your best friend? ~ Okay, you've been carrying on a 12 year relationship with "said" tramp, and it happened one day that your clothes fell off and your steel penis was pulled into her magnetized vagina? ~ Oh, you don't count the 12 years, just the one time that you say you screwed her? ~ You risked our family and your career, but you don't love her? ~ No, you would have to hate me to have done this ~ Make things right? Unfuck the bitch, can you do that?"
This began my journey into the reassessment of my life, especially my marriage and who I am as a person. How did I get here and what do I want out of life? Will I just keep a smile and be the proper Southern lady, never telling a soul?
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