@Lindyhoppity in my past I dated plenty of twats in tinfoil! 😂😂 I shall unashamedly steal this for future use. 😂
My husband’s AP was his escape from his problems. To his credit he’s never said I was one of them, but like all decades-long relationships, I could have done more and so could he. When I discovered his affair, it was in full swing. Been going on for a year, physical and emotional. Total cliché, nearly 20 years my junior, gym bunny etc etc. She had been cheating on her partner but had finished it about 5 months into their affair, claiming it was a bad relationship and nothing to do with him or the affair. Presumably not to scare him off early on. He told me on discovery that he would end it immediately and wanted to save our marriage. He didn’t end it immediately, unbeknownst to me. Easy to hide this, she was at the other end of a long commute from where we lived. Our finances outed him and told the truth and proved how long it went on for and when it actually finished.
This caused terrible damage to trust when I found this out, I had proof that it limped on for three more weeks. It was rock bottom.
Whilst horror struck that he could still lie and see her when I was on my knees, whilst being lovely to me and begging forgiveness, taking me out, buying me flowers and having hysterical bonding sex like bloody rabbits (🙄), hindsight showed me that
a) he felt suicidal that had been a total shit to me and didn’t want to be a shit twice over to another woman and just dump and run. Most importantly:
b) he ended it himself. Not because I told him to. Because he wanted to. Because in the light of reality, seeing what he stood to lose, shiny became tinfoil. He was in love with the affair, the situation, not his AP.
Young sex crazy gym bunny who adored him and made him feel good about himself became shameful doesn’t-get-my-cultural-references-too-young-for- me-demanding-problem.
The point of this sorry tale is to echo @Lindyhoppity. The OM isn’t all they are cracked up to be and you risk them thinking about you in the same way. You might be a drug of choice, not special and loved. Who wants to be that?
My husband said (he’d got no reason to lie any further, he’d been searingly honest about the physical and emotional side and nothing he said could have hurt me more, he understood that I needed the truth to process everything) has said that the thing that astonished him the most was the speed at which that the kick on the arse administered by discovery burst the bubble, and that his ‘feelings’ for his AP evaporated. He realised that rather than ‘the special one’ she could have been anybody. She was his drug of choice, he didn’t really love her as a person. He said that it only went on so long because “she’d continued to make herself available to me.” He said it was part of the fantasy role. The other life. He was amazed that in a few days, this woman went from his romantic obsession to a symbol of all his shame and guilt. I doubt she’d recognise him in a word of this if she could read this today. She thought he loved her. He was desperate to get out, so he arranged to meet her and ended it. Instead of being full of longing, missing her and wishing they could have been together, there was just relief that he could go back to his old life and invest in the woman he really loved, who had given him a second chance. He was happy in himself for the first time in months, less stressed and more authentic.
When I got upset from triggers reminding me of the two of them together he would cry with frustration that I saw it as this beautiful memory that he had, which hurt me to the core. His frustration was this: “You really don’t get it. She’s not a beautiful memory. I want to forget it all. I can’t stand myself. I hate who I am, I hate what I did, I hate how I hurt you, I hate what it did to my life and what it still could do. It’s no beautiful memory. It’s actually my nightmare. I still can’t believe I was that person. It was total madness. ”
Don’t be the woman who listens to their crap and keeps longing for them. You’re quite likely to be a symptom of their issues, not the answer. Don’t be the woman who is ‘available’. This sort of shit can only go on as long as it remains a fantasy. The vast majority of affairs are two people playing games on fantasy island. The main game seems to be working out what the other person really needs to hear and saying it. Wrapped up in tinfoil.