Two months ago my wife came home at 9 am after a “girl’s-night out.” I could feel in my gut that something was wrong.
The day before I had accompanied her to the salon while she got her hair done. We then went together to pick out a dress for her to wear that evening. I too am very into fashion, and so we frequently went shopping together. We have been in this city for just over three months, so I encouraged her to spend some time with her new girlfriends and coworker. Little did I know that she had been on a dating app lining up a date for that evening. Finally, after she got all ready to go out, she had me take a few pics of her in her new get-up. I now know from her phone records that she was talking to him over the previous three weeks when she said she had been talking to her estranged sister. Right before she left the house she texted him a photo I had just taken of her.
So the next morning she gets home seven hours later than she planned. No biggie I thought. We’ve been married 10 years I trust her. She just got a little more drunk than she planned. She told me she spent the night at her girlfriend’s and here she is safe and sound. But again, the pain in the pit of my stomach told me otherwise. I hung around the house because it was Saturday. I took the dog on a long walk; washed the dishes; and did some laundry. She spent the day texting him. I hoped she would be decent enough to admit what she had done. Nope.
Finally around 9 pm I had had enough. I went on a walk and screamed at the sky at the top of my lungs. I texted her and asked her “why she fucked some rando.” At first she denied it. But after a couple of texts she said she had “snapped” and yes she fucked him. The pain and anger were unbearable. 48 hours later I was on a plane to see my family for Thanksgiving. I haven’t seen her since.
Now, here we are two months later. She filed for divorce on our wedding anniversary. She is shacked up with fuckstick. She fucked a guy who has a kid from his recently divorced wife. (I’ve seen their divorce decree online.) This is a woman who swore, SWORE she never wanted kids. She convinced me to have a vasectomy so that we could stay childfree. (Mind you, I didn’t want kids either but the hypocrisy is staggering.)
Finally, four nights ago she calls me three times from a gas station near his house. He has put her out on the street without her purse, iPhone, laptop, or suitcase. She asks me to come pick her up. Thanks to my Chump Nation training, I don’t go. I ask her what happened and she gets pissed. She tells me she will just sleep outside in the 20 degree weather because he won’t let her in the house and hangs up on me. It’s been 72 hours and not a peep from her. I know she’s physically safe and back with him, but the fact that we’ve been together 10 years and yet she can’t even text to let me know she is alive is mindfuckery to the Nth degree.
Poor little match girl. Shivering in the cold. Cast out by fuckstick.
What’s your question, Ian? Why didn’t she call you? Because you ceased to be of use, that’s why. You didn’t give her a ride. You only wanted the details of her (deserved) misery.
Oh, Mr. Wonderful threw you out? Without your purse or mobile device? And you only have on a thin cotton sweater and bunny slippers? And it’s below freezing out and the Exxon station is unmoved by your pleas for comfort? And you have to pee? Hey, I know! Take a picture! We can post it on your dating profile! ShiveryLittleMatchGirl87 — Out in the Cold But Hot 4 U!
Ian, this is known as karma. It has visited your ex.
Her call for help was a plea for cake — be my chump! Do me a favor! Pay no attention to the dreadful way I have treated you! Stay of use to me!
Her silence can either goad you into pity, worrying about her welfare, and saving her from the Big, Bad, Scary Mr. Wonderful (this dynamic then morphs into the pick me dance — I’m sure she also tells Mr. Wonderful she had to be saved from the Big, Bad, Scary Ian)… OR you can take her silence as golden. It’s no contact.
Ian, I suggest you take the no contact. She’s not your problem any more. She fired you from the job as Partner, Personal Photographer to her dating profiles, and person who Gives a Shit.
She’s cold and lonely? Put another log on the fire and roast some marshmallows, dude. Enjoy the warmth of your new cheater-free life.