On 5th November last year I discovered that D was cheating on me. Well, seeing multiple women inappropriately shall we say. He was lying about his work situation, spending money he didn’t have (aka ‘ in the shit’ financially), letting me pay for everything, feeling crap about it and convinced that I was going to kick him out when I found out. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
So long story short, I kicked him in the nuts, broke a whole lot of his stuff, moved out for a while and then started to talk to him again through a counsellor. I agreed on the basis that he had been my best friend and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to lose that.
Counselling has been great, harrowing, uplifting and stomach crampingly painful. It turns out he had a completely fucked up perspective of women. There was so much he hadn't shared - from swinging grandmothers to cheating aunties. He saw all of them in me despite me never giving him any reason to. He never really gave us a chance.
So we’re trying again and, from my perspective, happy. But I look at this blog (or holiday photos for that matter) and it makes me wonder what he was doing or even thinking while I was living my life. Cos it sure as shit wasn’t what I thought it was. And then I start doubting what we have now and that’s not healthy. Hence I don’t think I’ll ever come back here but I’m also not ready to delete her. I’ve started tweeting again – maybe we’ll see each other there.
Thanks heaps for all your support over the years! xx
