Let’s just be clear, there was never a contest. The minute the ‘bubble’ was burst it was over before another breath was taken. It was always me. I have always been there.
- I was there when he was earning $250 a week as an apprentice trying to make ends meet
- I was there to watch every football game he played in the 10 years we’ve been together
- I was there when we bought our first home, went overseas for the first time.
- I was there for our daughters first ever bath where I watched him gently wash, dry and dress our precious baby girl with awe in his eyes and love in his heart.
- I was there every day during the last year which can only be described at not only the hardest time in our relationship, but in either of our lives.
- When we watched our closest family members suffer stroke, cancer and serious illness
- When he helped me, the love of his life, fight a potentially fatal post partum infection after the birth of our son, an infection which we all thought meant I wouldn’t be returning home. As he also supported me during the two follow up operations after.
- After he watched a mate die in his arms and experienced and is still experiencing an enormous amount of survivors guilt, I was there at the funeral by his side, I cuddled him to sleep every night.
- When a fatal industrial accident at his previous work made him question everything, I was at every police statement, OHS interview and got him the help he needed to make it through the day.
I was there for every moment over the last 12 months as we struggled to come to terms with the tremendous amount of emotion, stress, anxiety, confusion and heartache of what our family had experienced….
You were there for a moment.
A brief moment where we were tired, we were tired after a long year of ‘getting through’ and trying to keep our heads above water with three very young children.
A moment where he was looking for something, something that made him feel wanted, like he was coming first, like the last year had disappeared and he could just be him again.
You were there with what appears to be fairly intuitive instincts when it comes to weak men. Maybe the weak seek out the weak?
You were there, willing, when he’d had a few too many to drink at the work Christmas party.
You were there for the 6 weeks following for the countless text messages, face book conversations and 2 sexual encounters,
which broke me.
You see, I have always been the ‘strong’ one. Most mothers are (apparently except for women like you). If we received the wrong meal at a restaurant I would send it back, if we needed to call and complain to a service provider I would do it, he doesn’t even know his own banking password. I was okay with that, because what I provided in strength he matched in support and we equaled each other in love. It worked. We worked.
I could pretend to be strong now but that would be a lie, because this broke me. I had enough, we couldn’t handle anymore. After everything, I was lost, I, the one who always ‘found’ everyone. I didn’t feel like myself, I felt like a shell, empty. Life goes on.
I started with love. I loved him. I love him. I will always love him.
Not enough you say?
He loved me. He loves me. He will always love me.
What he did had nothing to do with us. Or you (In fact he openly admits it could have been ‘anyone’). It was all him, his weakness, his selfishness, his chance to be strong, and he failed. At that moment he failed, but to write off such love is something neither of us wanted to do. And we won’t. My psychologist tells me (yes we are in therapy, we’re worth it) every relationship has a ‘changing moment’ a point at which it changes, and either comes to an end or strengthens. This will be ours.
I obviously acknowledge the fact that you have issues, and it does prevent me from publicly releasing the explicit photos you sent of yourself to him (I may be forgiving but every girl has a good revenge fantasy). You obviously struggle to find someone to love you, to love you as completely as he loves me. I won’t pretend to understand you. I never could.
- I know who you are though. I know the women in the department have always been wary of you.
- I know you aren’t allowed in certain areas of the workplace because of women’s despise of you.
- I know you bake goodies for all of the men in the department and bring them into work during the week.
- I know you ask all the married men for advice about your relationships.
- I know when entering into an affair with him you were already ‘engaged’ to a married man in another department.
- I know the night you crossed the line with him you had your eyes on another man you work with (who was already in a relationship with someone)
Why? Does it make you feel good to ‘snatch’ men away from their partners? (Not that they actually leave, the man you are ‘engaged’ to goes home to his wife and children every night) How many have actually left for you? How many actually even liked you? Doesn’t it feel empty?
I would pity you if I wasn’t so distracted by my hate for you.
“There is a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women” Madeleine Albright
That night all he needed was a wake up call. A “Call your wife, I know how much you must love her”. Instead you took his phone number and starting working on him. He didn’t need or want you. He wanted me and in the sea of life we had found ourselves lost in we weren’t holding on close enough to each other and we drifted. I’ll admit I thought we were tough enough, and we weren’t. We won’t make that mistake again. I don’t know how much you knew about us, our history and our last year. I would guess not a lot. I don’t know how much you ever really know about the men you target, their wives, children, family or motives.
He was wrong. All the men you’re with are. A lot of them were meant to cheat, with women exactly like you. For them it’s the chase, the excitement of someone new. Pity once the ‘new’ wears off they move onto another ready, willing and equally as stupid new girl. For some men it’s different, just as wrong, but different.
You were a mistake, a horrible, hurtful, stupid, selfish, heartbreaking, devastating mistake. That’s all you will ever be.
I am his true love. That’s what I will always be.
Mistakes aren’t always forgiven but we have something special and amazing, and we are on our way to getting the trust and communication back, the love has always been there. I will forgive him. Maybe I am still the strong one after all.
You will always be weak, pathetic and lonely. I apologise for being so candid in my description of you but once you wake up to yourself and what you actually mean, or in fact how little you mean, you might give the ‘man snatching’ a rest and settle down with your young daughter and teach her how to be a lady. I hope for her sake you do.
The author of this letter has chosen to remain Anonymous
What would you do if your partner cheated? Would you ‘fight’ or take ‘flight’?
Please read the follow up post : Where We Are Now