Just looking back through the life of my infidel…looking at gaps and patterns and moments and experiences and ways-of-living that could give us both clues into how. Into why. This isn’t a treatise for explaining cheating; rather a process of working through for both of us…so we never end up there again.
Prepping for college included the requisite compiling of necessary things (laundry detergent and personal hygiene items; clothes and underwear; school supplies). But for HUSBAND, that summer also included other prep. It included sex with a married employee a few years older than him who just wasn’t happy in her marriage…all fun and games until she indicated she was starting to have feelings for him…and then he ran far and fast. It included sex with another older woman that he knew from a local vendor…and lots of drinking and smoking pot and altercations with other drunk and stoned people.
College. The young man, HUSBAND, was smart – having clepped several classes – entered university with one semester credit. He sees now that his dreams were not so much, rather, not-at-all, of achieving academic success or getting a degree, but pushing the limit of freedom and pushing his body beyond what it had known in the past.
He pulled a roommate with a similar goal and together they, and some of his childhood friends, found plenty of drugs, sex and rock ‘n roll. They partied from morning til night, got into drug/alcohol induced fights, interacted with campus police, interacted with girls in their dorm room, in overnights at the beach and anywhere else it happened and hit every concert that came to town. What he didn’t do was spend much time going to class, or studying. HUSBAND didn’t delve into relationships, just sex. Often sex numbed with drugs. The end of the first year brought the harsh reality that the university wasn’t excited about having him back. He was on disciplinary probation. He was on academic probation. The Dean told him he could not return to the school until he had obtained his associates degree elsewhere. And so he left.
If there was any recrimination from his parents, HUSBAND doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember either of his parents being involved in his college decision, his college year, or his college failure. He doesn’t remember any consequence, or deep conversations or confrontations at the end of the year. He just kept going, and was shuttled to one of his branch offices 150 miles away where he moved in with a relative. A relative that was married, but only a few years older than HUSBAND. A relative who also enjoyed much of the wild life, and the college life basically continued on for him in his early professional life. Once a week, HUSBAND had to return to the home office for a specific job duty, and within six months, was called to return full time to headquarters.
HUSBAND and a couple of his friends found a rental house in a low-end area and moved in. The house quickly became party-central for his old friends and his new friends and friends-of-those-friends. People came and went, bringing their individual brand of fun and there was always something and someone to share an imbibed moment with. HUSBAND remembers one day sitting in his room, smoking a joint and listening to music while a few friends partied outside in the common areas. The door to his bathroom opened (it was also accessible through another bedroom) and a girl from his home room class walked in. She walked over to his bed where he was sitting and started talking about inane happenings. Then, she said, “You know, I’ve always wanted to jump your bones.” And so they had sex and she got dressed and left. She wasn’t the only one during that time period, and that wasn’t the only time with her, or with others. No interest in relationship, but lots of interest in sex. That characterized this period for him.
Eventually HUSBAND desired a little nicer space, and less constant company and he found a better townhouse in a better area and moved in with two friends. There was still some serious partying, but less of a frenetic pace inundated with known and unknown partakers. More of the semblance of a home. All three roommates were hard working, although the pot smoking before work continued, and usually after work, too. But they saw themselves as moving up in their respective jobs, and beginning to look toward growing up.
About that time, HUSBAND had some tense moments with members of his family. In somewhat of a rebellion from what they envisioned for his personal life, he went out with friends, and mentioned he wanted to find himself a “rock ‘n roll girl.” He ran into the former girlfriend of someone he knew…a beautiful girl…an available girl…a wild and exciting girl…and they came back to his place where they explored every part of each other’s anatomy. It was sex on steroids for him, and he was hooked.
The story continues…
I’m sure it does help to look into the background of the cheater and try and put some reasons or see a lack of basic morals, etc. for him, I know it has helped me a little but… still a long way to go. Much peace and light to you. Michelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Michelle. To you too…
We’ve each had to find the way to healing, haven’t we? This may not be important to some, but for HUSBAND and me, it has been, and continues to be, a paramount part of our healing. HUGS to you!
LikeLike
Wow. I never knew anybody like this…or I didn’t know I did if I did. I know Loser partied a bit in college but we never really talked about anything.
I wonder now about my children and what their experiences were in college (except the middle one, who was more interested in studying and sleeping that partying.)
I grew up in the sixties, where the saying was “free sex, love and rock and roll.” That era was when I first heard about pot and LSD. It was also when the Vietnam War was at its worst.
I wonder now if any/all of those people who did all the experimenting with the drugs and “orgies” had issues later in life.
I kind of wish that was the reason Loser couldn’t keep that little thing in his pants but I doubt it. His was more of less entitlement, I think.
Is going back and more or less “reliving” this time in his life part of therapy or something? Is it for accountability?
If it helps and heals….then I am rooting for you both. Hugs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Laurel! It is therapeutic for him, and for me. I didn’t know all this about HUSBAND until after he moved into recovery. Most of this stuff he had never told me, and he painted a much different picture of his early years than was the truth. As we discuss each one of these entries, he clarifies his own memories and has begun to see skewed thinking and lies and manipulations from very early on. It is helping, and thank you for rooting for us. HUGS back to you!!
LikeLike
It may be painful for you but I have always been one to want “full disclosure.” I don’t want this “don’t ask, don’t tell” bullshit.
It may hurt but it can’t possibly hurt as much as lies. 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am the same way. There is so much pain in the lies.
LikeLiked by 1 person