It has been a tough week, and amongst the business I have not even have had a breath to process the events. Two months ago I confronted my husband and said, choose; Me or it. I am sure it wasn’t without some struggle, he chose me. He began a program and was doing fairly well. Not without pain, not without real hardship but he was 7 weeks pure. Pure from porn, masturbation, and yes even sex.
He was just a little over halfway through a 90 day detox. We had marked the day on calendars of when we could be intimate again, and frankly I was starting to look forward to true intimacy with him. Since he chose porn over his wife our entire marriage, it felt to me like we were waiting for our wedding day all over again. Never one to initiate intimacy, he confessed on Tuesday that he was yearning for me. I couldn’t have been more excited. I honestly felt so desired. This was actually new, in 12 1/2 years of marriage I can say with absolute certainty we were heading in the right direction. I was elated! Progress at last!
Truth be told there was serious temptation on both our parts to say that 90 days may not be necessary. After all just because the man who designed his program felt that the time span of 90 days was what it took to detox didn’t mean that it wasn’t what we needed. However, terrified that Darrell and S, his sponsor, might be right. It was ultimately decided to wait it out, not without real internal conflict mind you. We were better than half way through and why potentially mess up what was to be a sure thing, right?
No less then 24 hours later, he fell. He went searching for porn. He brought it into my home, right after such a powerfully positive experience the night before. He confessed right away, lest I find out the hard way. Instantly, the pain returned. My new found security although tentative was destroyed. My heart broken. I kept saying “you ruined everything”. He destroyed the magic I felt the night before. He destroyed a dream I have held for years in just 10-15 minutes of searching. He ripped my emotion security away, and with it my financial security.
He is clearly remorseful, which makes this worse. I almost prefer the jerk from years ago that would tell me to “get over it” because I am strong enough now to know what to do with that guy. But here we are, me having to enforce boundaries of a temporary separation on a person whom despite everything I still love. He looks shattered, and I am pissed.
I am pissed that what little money we had left is paying for a hotel. I am pissed because I think he had started to get lax in the daily homework, choosing play over the work he needed to do to keep me-us emotionally safe. I am pissed, he abandoned me again to women on a screen. He put his personal comfort in front of his supposed favorite person in the world. I am beyond angry that a new forming confidence was stolen, especially with an important job interview coming up on Friday. I am pissed that because he fell, I am the one who gets to be broken.
I want to punch him. I want him to feel just a little of the pain he caused for what really? Was it worth it? I know he would say of course not. I know says “I didn’t realize how serious this is” and “I understand now”. It’s not like I haven’t heard this before, but I will say this is the first time he has been in any true recovery. What is it going to take for his ass to remember? Perhaps it will take losing it all, and that is what scares and angers me the most.