I want to thank you all for the replies overnight--I replied to most of them and I greatly appreciate reading them.
I had a rough morning and I thought I'd give everyone an update. But it occurs to me, in most of my posts, I'm calm and rationale. I'm sure I strike most of you as put-together and reasoned--and I often am. But I've had a darker side since DDay as well--emotional beyond what I thought I was capable; crying; confused.
So instead of reporting on the events of my morning in a rational way, I thought instead I'd share with you all the email I sent to my wife a couple of hours ago. It's raw and unfiltered, but it'll give you a better window into the other side of me.
A candy-colored clown they call the sandman,
Tiptoes to my room every night;
Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper,
Go to sleep, everything is alright.
I close my eyes then I drift away,
Into the magic night, I softly say:
A silent prayer like dreamers do,
Then I fall asleep to dream my dreams of you.
In dreams I walk with you,
In dreams I talk to you;
In dreams you're mine all of the time,
We're together in dreams, in dreams.
But just before the dawn,
I awake and find you gone;
I can't help it,
I can't help it,
If I cry,
I remember that you said goodbye.
It's too bad that all these things,
Can only happen in my dreams;
Only in dreams,
In beautiful dreams.
Roy Orbison wrote "In Dreams" in 1963 and it's been playing in my head all morning. It traveled for nearly 60 years to get there. I suspect it doesn't mean to me what it meant to him when he wrote it, but as I navigate my new world, everything seems to be redefined daily--even if just slightly.
A few days ago I told you about my dream of us on the raft in the south pacific--we were near the island when I dove off the raft and was swept away by a supernatural current. I shared it because it felt so metaphorically heavy-handed; but also because it was so unique. In the dream you were stoic, lifeless, staring at me without emotion throughout, even as you vanished from my view. You asked me if I have had similar dreams before. I lied and told you that I rarely dream.
In truth, I awake most days from a dream between 4 - 5 a.m. You're central to every dream--and interestingly, before the affair was revealed, I don't recall dreaming much, nor do I recall dreaming about you. Unlike the anomaly dream with you stoic in the south pacific, you're happy in all the others: usually laughing, but sometimes smiling, joyfully chatting or even orgasming. The time periods of the dreams change--sometimes it's during the affair and you're texting on your phone with a friend; sometimes you're laughing and kissing [AP], but then in others it's years ago and we're happily together. The situations change, but you're happy in all of them.
In the more current ones, you're often being deceitful too--like in last night's dream you were sending long texts to [a friend] about how much fun you were having in your affair behind my back. You were sending the text in front of me, smiling and laughing. I'm often stoic in these dreams; you're full of life. You looked at me and joyfully said: "I'm sorry, but this is just so much fun." I couldn't read the texts, I just saw the heart emojis at the end.
I woke up, tears already welling up in my eyes: it was 4:38 a.m. For the first time I can remember, my initial thought wasn't of your hotel stay on Feb. 24. Instead I thought about last night--it meant a lot to me: us cuddled for so long chest-to-chest--skin-on-skin. The comfort. You suggesting we try the new sex toy: it was fun, adventurous. It felt like our moment. Making love to you: I was present, not once thinking of you and [AP]. Afterward I fell asleep and my heart felt full.
I moved closer to you in our bed; you were still soundly sleeping. I wrapped my arm around you and our hands clasped tightly. Within a few minutes I felt the familiar urge to pull away. A repulsion for you creeps over me and I want you nowhere near me. I didn't move this time though, I stayed in the flames. The repulsion grew with my resolve and tears began to flow. I stayed embraced with you for about 50 minutes, crying nearly the entire time. I didn't even unclasp our hands to wipe away the tears.
I finally broke and pulled away, running to the bathroom to wash my face and collect myself. I remembered to breathe.
Back in bed, it was nearly 6 a.m.; I kept my distance from you and tried to rest my eyes, but the tears kept coming. I don't know why I was crying--truly, I couldn't figure out what was happening.
Your alarm went off at 6:30 a.m., blaring from your phone. You turned it off and rolled into me to cuddle. I lasted less than a minute before I became emotionally overwhelmed. And there it was--I knew I couldn't run from it much longer. Images of his phone alarm on the morning of Feb. 25 and you slinking close to him to greet him with a blow job. I thought of the word: "blaring" when your phone went off--that was the word you used to describe his phone alarm. I'm sure I've cried as hard before, but I can't recall ever crying harder.
I then thought of your last fuck with him to end the night on Feb. 24. When you were ready for bed, but his "hands began to roam" for a fourth session--you told me you begrudgingly went along with it even though you were dead tired--"I couldn't say no then obviously..." And then how afterwards, when he'd covered you with yet another orgasm, you jokingly told him to "Now stay away!" so you could get some sleep. I can see that so clearly--your laugh, your smile, your playfulness.
I spiraled to my inevitable breakdown and ran back to the bathroom to collect myself again. A shattered man looking back at me from the mirror.
Last night was one of the bad dreams. But perhaps tonight's dream will be better.