Seeing my freshly washed permanent press wadded up in a ball was the final straw. After years of pursuing him, pleasing him, trying to change for him, I realized, this was never going to last. For the past few months my husband had been elusive, passive-aggressive, ignored our 16th anniversary, and slept in the guest bedroom. In an effort to please him, I had been cooking every night and caught up all of the house work and laundry. The final load consisted of my professional work clothes. I must have nicely ironed and hung up 100 articles of his clothing, but when I come home from the grocery store, my clothing is snatched from the dryer and left tangled in a chair. Hopelessly wrinkled!
He walks in through the door without acknowledging me. “Oh honey!” I snarled, “I got your “Fuck You” when I got home, thanks! If you wanted a divorce, but were afraid to ask, I just want you to know that the answer is YES! You are a free man!” After more heated words, he ignores me and hides in his “man cave” in the basement and I go to the bedroom I’ve been sleeping in, alone. My kids are 12 and 14. I don’t want to rock their world. I’ll have to find a way to stay with him for six more years.
I heard about a “dating” site for cheating spouses on the radio. You create a profile and hook up with other married malcontents. It’s fun, anonymous, confidential, and safe. I checked it out for a little voyeuristic fun. After being faithful to one man my whole life, it felt deliciously naughty just to look. Guest profiles are free, so I put one together as though I were really going to do something, then marked it “hidden”. It existed, but no one else could view it. Just me. I could mark it “active” anytime so others could view my preferences, but never did. It’s like wearing slutty lingerie to work. I know it’s there and it gives me a dirty thrill, but no one else can see it. No harm, no foul. Innocent fun, right? My user name was from a song by The Sex Pistols. Appropriate and provocative…..