How Quickly Did You Fall Out of Love After D-Day?

Did you quickly fall out of love after D-Day? Or was it a slow, agonizing detachment? Was there a moment that broke things irrevocably? Falling out of love is the Friday Challenge.
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Dear Chump Lady,
How about a post about how fast you fell out of love with your FW?
Someone in the comments recently mentioned someone falling out of love with their cheater in the time it took the copy of the incriminating email to fall from her hand to the floor.
That was my experience, too. 34 years married, 2 kids, up until D Day I loved him, thought he was a great guy, trusted him completely.
But then: Years. Strippers, plural. At least one younger than our daughter. A whole bunch of money.
That day, D-Day, after telling me all this, he said: “I know you love me. I know you won’t leave me.”
Talk about flapping something red in front of a bull. (“Oh, yeah? Watch me.”)
And my feelings haven’t changed. I don’t love him.
I don’t miss him. In fact, I only think about him in the context of: “How could he be such an idiot? Is he capable of anything crazy? Is he scheming? Or, is he hiding money?” (I’m early in the divorce process.)
A cousin who was cheated on in two marriages said he realized that what he missed wasn’t the person, it was the life he had built with them. (He never refers to his ex-wives by their names; they are just “the first X” and “the second X.”)
I do sometimes wonder, though, if my feelings are defective that they could turn on a dime like that.
Other people take much longer, and that’s interesting, too.
I tried out an S-Anon meeting recently. Not for me. The people running it were so nice, but they were still with their FWs, going to these meetings for years and even decades. No, thank you. Also, they use the same 12 steps the addicts do: take a fearless inventory of your faults (“I was too trusting?”), make amends to the people you hurt. (Um, what?).
Just a thought. 🙂
Chumplet
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Dear Chumplet,
Your Friday Challenge wish is my command. I think we all snap out from under the spell differently, and it probably says less about the depth of our love than the depth of our dysfunction or sunk costs. There are so many cultural messages to stay, so much financial pressure and fear. And chumps are usually battling their own values and internal scripts. “I’m not a quitter” or “I can fix this.”
To arrive at “I do not love you any more” is a choice.
To live differently, to save yourself and put your own well-being first.
Well, Tracy, don’t cheaters say all the time they just “fell out of love” with you?
They aren’t responding to abuse. (I know they cast it that way after the fact.) Most of them are not communicating this dissatisfaction, or working on the relationship, before they cast about. I’d argue that anyone capable of a sustained double life (aka “strippers”) never loved you at all. You were just of use to them.
Maybe you fell out of love quickly, because it had been dying on the vine for a long time and D-Day was the catalyst you needed to leave. But because you were a committed person, you never would’ve given yourself that permission before.
As for S-Anon reconciliation in church basements, that’s some of the saddest hopium out there. I’m glad you’re free.
So, CN when and how did you fall out of love with your FW?
TGIF!

After d-day 1? I was still in love. I was in love so much that I tried everything to save the marriage. I took all the blame, tried to fix myself, had so much sex…
Three years later, d-day 2 was on the rise. I was getting tired of being treated like shit all the time. I was suspicious, but couldn’t find evidence. Then, one day, “I love you, but I’m not in love with you” came out. I discovered the affair the next day. I was still in love, still held the family together as much as I could, even as I filed for divorce. Still cried every night as I was left alone with the kids so they could go out together. Every. God. Damned. Night.
I was still blamed. My ex blamed me. My in laws blamed me. Even my parents blamed me. My mom would tell me everyday to keep the marriage together, to cancel the divorce. It was sooo hard.
After about two months, I discovered LACGAL. And that’s when the anger set in. That’s when I started standing up for myself, against everyone.
It’s been one year. The divorce is almost done – literally just waiting on the judge. I’m single and I’m happy. I’m hurt, but I’m healing. My primary goal with the divorce was to keep the kids in their school, and because my ex moved out of district, it meant I was forced to stay. So I made some sacrifices and did what I could to keep the marital home – and now I’m the mom who got the kids to keep their bedrooms. I’m the one who let them keep their home, their school, their friends.
I think trying to muster any love for someone who would upend our (their!) kids’ lives is a lost cause. After having to sell my marital home, I found a cozy apartment and then managed to purchase a townhome a few years later. To the capacity of my power, I am not planning on upending my daughter’s life any time soon, which is more than I can say for the FW monkey-brancher. Hard to love people who have demonstrated such a lack of love, and who only consider themselves.
This is mega-mighty! 💪🏽
I hung in for about 5 years hoping the midlife crisis would blow on by. There were really 2 incidences that sealed the deal for me. When I went in his man cave while he was super scrolling through the sports channels and once again was going to try and talk about our state of affairs, no pun intended he looked at me and said “if you think I am going to tell you I love you, I’m not”, and the second arrow was “write me a cheque for a thousand bucks or its divorce” and my reply was “I’ll take the divorce”. Never looked back. I had been married 30 years, 2 grown sons, house paid for, retired, easy street or so I thought.
OOOH…I feel special, think it was my comment about dropping the paper to the floor. That was the moment when the last shred of love for him which I had locked away in my heart truly died.
The whole experience was lengthy and complex and I was the reason it was lengthy and complex…he showed me that he didnt love me in hundreds of ways in thousands of instances and he had been dead for about 2 years, but finding what I found – which indicated a giant swath of lies – was it.
It was a strange conversation with my then-fiance …telling him what I had found and how I felt. I have never told my kids and I likely wont ever.
I dont think that anyone should try to follow in my footsteps…Im not sure I am a very good exemplar of the ideal way to cope with this. I do hope, though that my experience might help someone identify in themselves when that change has happened.
It took me months, which felt like years. At first I was in shock and open to working through it, but over time and with evidence of a lack of change (or even desire to change) on his part, it was clear this person did not care one iota about me or our daughter and what he was doing to her, so it was what felt like a slow, nauseating backslide out of love. I was clouded by cognitive dissonance the whole time and it was really ultimately my gut telling me you can’t continue this way or love this person who did this horrible, prolonged thing to you (cheating as a “mistake”, my ass – this man lied from the jump). Over these months, I found that it was harder to talk to him or even look at him, to the point where he made a comment about this out loud…and to which I responded that we needed to get a divorce. By the time I came to this conclusion, it was done. I’ve never looked back. The person I loved did not actually ever exist. On top of that, he proved himself to be an enemy, and a much more insidious one at that by having married me to do what he did, like some fucked up Trojan horse. He weaponized the idea of love and I am still trying to mentally and emotionally repair from that over eight years later.
“The person I loved did not actually ever exist. On top of that, he proved himself to be an enemy, and a much more insidious one at that by having married me to do what he did, like some fucked up Trojan horse. He weaponized the idea of love and I am still trying to mentally and emotionally repair from that over eight years later.” This is me- all the years later, still horrified and not totally repaired but Free! Not in love, but still haunted.
Love this challenge! My D-Day was about 6 months ago and involved discovering my ex Fuckwit’s multiple affairs, hookups, snd hooker habit (he brought them into our home and bed). My love for him (i’d invested 6 years of my life in a shit charade) died instantly as I quickly realized I had loved a mirage—a shell.
Part of me thought i must be cold to have such a sudden and deep change of heart but it was more an awakening: gradual (before D-day i had some suspicions), then had the SUDDEN and UNSTOPPABLE realization that I’d been duped and he’d DELIGHTED IN DUPING ME. I felt shock, rage, grief but also CLARITY—the FOG LIFTED almost immediately. This blog and community helped me understand what had happened. I tried to untangle the skein for a bit but mostly have been regrouping rebuilding my life and have—to my surprise and delight—never felt better.
I used to miss the life i thought WE HAD but no longer do bc I see it was fake. What’s real is me and the life I have now, which is so much better now. I have the odd moment of loneliness but mostly I feel at peace. I am building more friendships, embracing my hobbies, and enjoying myself. I am even going on a date next week and feel cautiously optimistic about life.
You wrote: “Part of me thought i must be cold to have such a sudden and deep change of heart.”
For what it’s worth, I wrote about this in my long-assed comment today– the alarm some feel about that sudden change of heart, as if this reflected negatively on their capacity for love while, in fact, it might simply be that the spell of Stockholm syndrome broke once the abuser became more explicit in the abuse and control they’d engaged in all along and also withdraw the love-bombing portion of it.
Immediately. Precipitously. Irrevocably.
My fw was fucking up for a long time before I discovered the affair, and days before discovery, I was obsessively watching documentaries about Chris Watts and feeling like something really, really bad was about to happen. That smoking gun was the one final piece of evidence I needed to fully see what kind of person I was dealing with, and I’m so glad I found it. It was sheer luck, too; I didn’t go looking for it, it literally fell in my lap.
I still grieve the person I thought I was married to, and the life I thought I had. It was a beautiful fantasy. Better to live in reality, though.
Edit: Speaking of grieving someone who never existed… it’s fucked up, right? Tell me I’m not the only one? When you go through an honest loss or breakup, you still get to keep the memories, but when you unmask a fraud, you don’t even get that.
It’s a weird and hard grief (a consequence of a deep manipulation/ mindfuck) when what/who you loved did not exist. But i have tried to honor it anyway and let myself feel it. I had to mourn that this person i loved never existed but my feelings for him did—they were real.
I have deleted the pics of him but kept the ones of me because i was real even though he wasnt. Hard to wrap my mind around it still. So i limit my rumination.
Any tricks to limiting your rumination? I have therapist. I’ve made progress! And my obsessiveness is also a great attribute to my work- but not in getting over my horrific “marriage” which was more an arrangement of sorts for him…
I agree. I know people whose (non-cheater) spouses had died. It’s not the Pain Olympics, as CL says, but there seems to be something about being able to remember them with a sense of love and warmth. Trying to do that in this situation is basically trying to wrap your arms around a phantom. Poof – never existed.
Normal people, who are able to bond with others, experience loved ones as an ongoing, reassuring presence when they’re not around. I suppose that’s why it hurts so much to be robbed of that presence. I imagine it hurts just as much when you discover the secret double life long after they’ve gone.
I meant to add that these particular deaths I was thinking of were untimely – sudden or cancer earlier in life…that kind of thing. The surprise element was still there, but these were good, loving people. That is something you keep with you even when they’re no longer around, like you said. I imagine that discovering a double life after they’re gone would be like going through a second death and grief cycle. Going through this is already a complete conundrum that someone who never existed is still walking around – not unlike experiencing a death, minus the warmth of their memory.
It was really awkward when (soon after cheater died) I was contacted by 2 or 3 other widows whose late-husbands had gone to college with Cheater and they were all the “he loved me to the end” sorts.
In a very strange way, not knowing the full breadth of his treachery at the time of his death, my grief was very real and (now in retrospect) Im glad I was grief-stricken because it kept me in the same emotional space as my kids and I think they needed that.
My brain fries whenever I try to discern what was real and what wasn’t. For a few years, I was like “It was all crap, all of it”. Lately, I have had a memory or 2 of pleasant moments and I dont quite know what to do with them. My first reaction is “if we could be that happy and you still what you did, then it did all really suck”.
It’s interesting how we all have different dealbreaker moments (and Im not saying my definitions are more valid than anyone else’s). When I read about Cheaters using sex workers, my brain explodes. The potential disease exposure, squandering of marital funds and the fact that there was no emotional connection luring them in all just blows my mind. The fact he thought he was “in lurve ” at least makes it emotionally directed (even if it was wrong and misguided) but I conjecture that if I ever learned that my partner hired a sex worker, I would drop the ax that very moment.
A friend of my mother’s thought the death her first husband was the worst thing in the world until her son’s awful divorce with a liar. She said like it was a secret- divorce is worse than her first husband getting hit by a car while on his bike and dying when she had a 3 and 1 year old. So. Yes.
I should not have been, but I felt sideswiped by the final discard.
I had an extremely agressive cheater and was attacked on multiple fronts from xh during the entire divorce process, becasue I would not follow “his line”.
He was irrational and relentless.
yet-
I still loved him. It was terrible and I hurtin certain ways for years. I knew I wouldn’t take him back after about 4 months of “pick me dancing”, but I still had hurt feelings.
Then, with the help of CN, I fell upon three thoughts I repeated over and again – when I felt emotional:
#1. He did this because….. he wanted to.
#2. It is not my fault.
#3. You can not control the moral code or descisions another person makes. Even if you could, would you want to?
Once I internalized these three statements, I felt way better about my position and the divorce. Maybe that is what people mean by “fall out of love”. That is as close as I can come to describing it.
Pardon the typos.
Ten years. I forgave myself for the first eight because I realize now that I was being gaslit by an expert manipulator. After he trickle truthed his way to admitting to the affair, the next two years were spent pleading for empathy… from a dismissive avoidant. While he pretended to want to reconcile.
I started to not keep his secret any longer. One day I was telling my story to a friend. The friend simply said, “Well, you still love each other, don’t you?” That was the moment that I realized that no, I no longer loved him. It took a while longer and more education on my part to understand that he NEVER loved me.
My shrink only recently – about his remarriage and new better life to a woman who has far more money than me- and I (not proud) hate that he is happy- said, “he loves money, that’s it.” And that helped. And it’s accurate. I want meh! I know it takes the time it takes, but when the rumination of self blame and loneliness blabla come on, I get irritated and sad. Mostly, I am free. It is possible that because it was 30 years, and I still have 2 sons with him- that I may never get “meh”. So, free but no meh.
It took me six weeks to discover the affair after he left me.
I knew I couldn’t be with him before I found out about the affair; he was being so horrible and cruel and I knew it was irreparable. It took me about a week to accept it was over, but I wouldn’t say I was completely out of love at that point.
Any love completely and utterly died two months after D-Day. Our 3-year-old son, out of nowhere, had a seizure. I got him to the hospital and texted my STBXH. When we eventually spoke on video, it was clear he was not in the UK. He didn’t apologise, didn’t say “I can’t get there, I’m abroad” or tell me when he would be back. He listened and then went back to his international vacation with his girlfriend.
I spent the next 24 hours with my son alone in the hospital, wondering if he had epilepsy. I was exhausted, worrying, and still massively struggling with everything. I felt so alone. I just remember thinking how little respect he must have for me if he couldn’t let me know he was leaving the country.
And that’s the point I dropped his family too. We hadn’t even filled for divorce, and his mom was already stepping in to babysit so he could screw his mistress in Spain. When she came to pick up my son, she asked for pajamas and a toothbrush because EX had left nothing.
I couldn’t believe this woman was helping my husband cheat on me and then expected me to provide an overnight bag. Ridiculous.
I think about the difference between my tolerance for his shit behavior (my fog would have gone on longer, I think) and then considering what he’s doing in reference to how it affects my kid and all semblance of love goes out the window. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. How someone could compartmentalize their child having a SEIZURE and go back to screwing their mistress in another level of fucked up. It’s that shark mentality (or shark eyes, when you’re communicating face to face) – not on this level, but I do remember seeing it surface once everything was out in the open, and it was frightening.
Thank you. Luckily it was a one-off seizure and it never happened again. But it was very scary at the time.
I think it was the lack of human decency that sealed it for me. I can, to some degree, understand him falling out of love and wanting to be with someone else. I can even understand, to a degree, him going back to his holiday, as there was nothing he could do from where he was.
What I couldn’t understand is knowing that you share a child with someone and not informing them you’ll be completely unavailable in an emergency. Or to not say, when they do call you, “I’m sorry, I’m not in the UK. Do you want to see if my mum can come over so you can go home and grab some pajamas?”
I’m not surprised anymore. There have been two other instances since then where I’ve had to take our son to A&E and he didn’t show up either time despite living 15 minutes away.
We’ve now been broken up for nearly three years, and I’m pretty convinced he’s a communal narcissist and doesn’t have feelings for anyone in any real way.
I had 3 D-days and my response to each was different. The first one, I was absolutely shattered and broken. There was an impulse to get away but I was thousands of miles from the mainland US and had no means. I got sucked into the RIC. I was told to dance harder. I did.
Second D-day, I was 7 months pregnant. I found everything and didn’t even cry. He had been cheating on me before I was pregnant and throughout my pregnancy. I stopped loving him that day. December 6, 2014. There is a special place in hell for FWs like him. My heart was DONE. However, I still felt like I had married for life. I wasn’t going to divorce. I confronted him and he did some half-hearted attendance at sex addicts anonymous meetings. He promised to do better because we had a child to protect. In the surface, I believed him. In my soul, I didn’t.
I found LACGAL years later and I thought it made sense to line up my ducks, so I quietly did. “Maybe you fell out of love quickly, because it had been dying on the vine for a long time and D-Day was the catalyst you needed to leave. But because you were a committed person, you never would’ve given yourself that permission before.” That was when the final D-day came. And I said “F*ck this $hit.”
Divorce should – hopefully – be final 12/1/2025.
So glad it’s almost over. You tried, he didn’t. What is there to love? God speed, and stay mighty.
After a 16-year relationship and 9-year marriage, it’s been a slow and agonizing detachment. It’s been a year and a half since the bigger D Day about the ongoing physical affair (she admitted to an emotional affair about five months prior to that). I’d say deep, deep down I still love her. Does that mean I want her back? No. But coparenting with her for our young son just makes it harder to fully detach. Getting there and showing myself grace for the emotions that flare up from time to time. Learning proper boundaries on a monthly basis.
What I love most though is my independence. If there’s anything good with being a chump, I think it’s that feeling of independence once you get back on your two feet. It’s also made me aware of how much codependence defines many other people’s relationships around me.
So…unpopular opinion/stance/etc. but I’m being honest. I still have a soft spot for this awful human being. I left him four years ago and I would never ever go back to him, but he’s just so sad and pathetic that the only way I can feel is a deep sadness for him. We were married almost 30 years and have five grown kids together. It pains me that the kids only barely tolerate him (one won’t even talk to him, the others dutifully see him when he asks them repeatedly and then like…”FINE. One hour.”) because even though I know this is all his fault, it’s just so sad. So a part of me will always “love” him, but I guess not be “in love,” so I guess I did lose being “in love” with him four years ago when I left him? I know at first, I spent a year pick-me dancing, though, hoping and praying he’d change. Now I know better. When I realized he didn’t love me the way I loved him, it fundamentally changed how I felt for him for ever after. But I still wish him well.
i was confused for a few months after D-day and did some pick-me dancing that i regret now, but once X moved out of the house and i saw the way he was ignoring the kids, i instantly lost any feelings remaining.
i realized he pretended to be a husband and father for years, none of it was real, and that was a mind fuck to deal with. it still is, 5 years out. fundamentally i’m changed and there is no return to the person i was before marriage. i think that is the source of grief today, that the young woman i was once was slowly obliterated. i accept it as reality but it’s sad.
but no contact was the clarifying agent. like acid-base titration using the indicator phenolphthalein or a reaction where vitamin C is added to an iodine solution
and the solution turns clear. that’s how it felt to me.
#damnitfeelsbadtobeachumpster
If loving means I can’t imagine finding another partner I’d feel the same about, then maybe I still love him.
But after nearly six years of no contact and practicing mindfulness, I can barely remember him as a person. I seem to have a 30 year gap which often can include other details, as well. PTSD?
The pain required as clean a break as I could muster.
It’s a complicated grief. I think the suicide of a spouse comes closest.
For me it took right at two months from the discovery of the affair to not loving my ex-wife anymore. For those two months I cried and bargained and raged at the idea that our decade-long marriage had to come to an end. I expected this to continue when the kids and I moved out at the start of the third month, but she had her affair partner move in the same day we moved out. This was such a toxic move on her part that it killed off any love I still had for her, which feels a little bit like a mixed blessing sometimes. On one hand, thinking about it has kept me from pining for her and blowing up her phone being sorry for myself or wanting to get back with her in the future. I’m as no contact as a person can be when kids are involved. I treat her like a stranger and live my own life. On the other hand, I’m left wondering how much of our time together was real if she can just move on so fast.
I never have.
I mean, I’m a long termer.
We were finally over almost eight years ago. After 31 mostly truly fantastic years together. I 100% believe in LACGAL. But have never been able to completely sever the love.
I know I love(d) a mirage. My darling can never have existed. We are NC. Or exceptionally LC. Recent brief contact over one of our three adult kids’ wedding, after zero contact for the three years since most recent of our kids’ postgrad graduation.
But my heart still aches. Every day. I’ve gained a life. It’s hidden. Because it serves no purpose, and is honestly embarrassing.
I loved for life, and I have had a shit ton of therapy. It’s infuriating. But I accept the love is there. And there is no reason for it.
Finding this site a few months after dday helped me get over the hump. I stopped thinking of him as someone who had been f’ed up by his parents as a kid and starting thinking of him as someone with a truly terrible character.
Also AA and al-anon (smart recovery in my case) were so awful, the crazy martyrdom and hopium and self abuse were off the charts. Second only to Terrence Real’s hopium in terms of the damage it caused me and my family.
I kind of envy people who had the magical “Poof! Luv-be-gone!” moments as if using one of those bathtub lime removers sold on QVC.
For some chumps, I imagine that enviable “poof” moment is just the radical acceptance that the person they thought they married who appeared to have certain lovable qualities didn’t have those qualities and wasn’t who they pretended to be.
But there’s another possible explanation related to Stockholm syndrome– something you see quite often in domestic violence advocacy: survivors being amazed at how suddenly and thoroughly any love they thought they felt for their tormentors dries up.
From what I saw, this generally doesn’t happen that quickly if victims aren’t getting support from the justice system and their abusers are still at large, in the throes of a post-separation rampages and still a danger to survivors. But if the abusers in question are arrested or something else happens to sap them of whatever power they formerly wielded over their victims, victims can experience that sudden radical shift in feelings.
I remember some survivors (especially the ones who’d spent too long seeing shitty therapists who applied the “family systems/split blame” theory of domestic abuse) expressing alarm over this, as if something was wrong with their ability to love and if this sudden dearth of affection could happen regarding their feelings for their children and other blameless loved ones. So, as advocates, we’d present the reassuring possibility that what they felt for their abusers all along– or at least since the first act of abuse– wasn’t love at all but a survival-based false display of loyalty that suddenly became unnecessary the moment the abuser was de-clawed in some way– lost their power.
In other words, the second these survivors no longer had to grovel for amnesty from their abusers to inspire mercy (or the moment they realized it was pointless because abusers would escalate anyway), all former motivation to do so simply stopped. Of course some abusers are so terrifying that their victims may remain afraid of them even beyond the grave and therefore might continue this “imitation pining/faux wuv display” even after the abusers are gone. But in a lot of situations, once the danger has passed, so goes the captor bonding.
In my opinion, this isn’t a reflection on survivors capacity for real love, just a reflection of the fact that abusers aren’t lovable. I think this was a relief for a lot of survivors, especially if they’d been frog-boiled by the culture or their abusers to believe that being “perfidious” and “loveless” was precisely the thing that made them deserving of abuse.
I think this might potentially explain why a lot of FWs amp up their vicious verbal abuse while they’re cheating and also begin back-filling the whole marriage as terrible because chumps were supposedly always so “unloving.” It might be attempt to simultaneously reboot conditioning (where victims are made afraid of the consequences of their abusers perceiving victims as less than completely loyal) and reboot the fear program, all to solidify the captor bonding so victims don’t leave in the face of betrayal. In short, some survivors who find themselves stuck in the “pining” stage might consider that they’ve been conditioned to fear being perceived as “loveless.”
But I suspect that what can also break the conditioning spell is when FWs scrap the “love bombing” portion of coercive control, possibly because their affair partners are demanding exclusivity. This may be why abusers amp up the negative conditioning– to compensate for withdrawing the “positive reinforcement.” But this can backfire because victims of abuse are most likely to try to escape at the moment that the danger of staying in the relationship starts to exceed the considerable danger of leaving it.
Whatever is the case, to the extent that cheating = abuse and cheaters = abusers, chances are this “gloves off” behavior on the part of FWs during affairs is simply an escalation of coercive control that had always been there, not a sudden radical change or “switcheroo” as some perceive. Dr. Emma Katz wrote an interesting argument for Substack about how erroneous it is to assume that abusive relationships only became abusive from the first punch or obvious act of domestic violence. Instead she argues that abusers typically enact coercion and control from the get-go but often through controlling gestures that the culture brands as “love” or romance. So there is a chance that, deep in survivors’ ancient autonomic nervous system– aka, lizard brain– there was always an inkling that the abuser was an abuser, therefore the victim never really had a chance to develop genuine love in the first place. In that case, once many victims are out of danger, any feelings they once thought were love might up and disappear in a flash.
Super interesting analysis! I think you’re onto something.
These CL words are my story, too: “Maybe you fell out of love quickly, because it had been dying on the vine for a long time and D-Day was the catalyst you needed to leave. But because you were a committed person, you never would’ve given yourself that permission before.”
The love had slowly drained away and was most noticeable after we became empty nesters more than 20 years into our 28-year marriage. But especially a few months after leaving, when reconciliation attempts were clearly not going to work because he showed no signs of owning his misdeeds and actually changing, I realized I had no more love for him.
The key moment while separated was when he sent me a letter that I call my “Game-Over” letter. Horrible blame-shifting and word salad that helped me see clearly why he had oozed hostility towards me for many years. My eyes were wide open then, and my love for this masked human shape containing lies, deception, and loathing for me – not a real man, not a real husband – could not exist anymore.
(For the record I think the 12 steps are a pretty fabulous change model. I was sort of with that being used in that context up until it was “take accountability for your own faults” and then it seems like “stay with the idiot.” Yeah no. By all means-learn and grow as a person from the mistake-but we are not accountable for the actions of others. Ahem.)
Like the cousin in Chumplet’s email, it was the person I THOUGHT that I was with that I was in love with. If that person was ever real, she vanished when it was time to start acting like a real adult. Perhaps it was always an ideal, perhaps it was the potential, or perhaps I’m just an idiot. Like I said, I don’t know if that person was ever real anymore. I doubt I will find out. And frankly I’m kind of OK with that.
I was pretty over the person she either became or always was the day, famously, she asked for an open relationship (and coincidentally already seemed to have somebody picked out). That was the day after I was diagnosed with diabetes and I was having a really hard time with that. I always ran toward her problems-she hit me when I was down and vulnerable. While I had started to have doubts leading up to that point, that sealed the deal. Idiot that I am, I Pick-Me Danced hoping that she would snap out of it, or that it was just the stress. How foolish I was.
Being out of love with her was crit-confirmed the weekend after our famous “post-break-up couples counseling sessions” when I was literally rolling around in her filth trying to move her old desk, seeing that she never once cleaned that area and that the reason that she never vacuumed was that she had broken the damned thing after a month of owning it and never bothered to tell me(was actually a pretty easy fix, ironically).
Have a Fuckwit Free Friday!
It hit me in the face like a cold slap and I never thought of her the same way again.
Post D-Day, I had been been doing variations of the pick me dance for more than a year. She had given me very little encouragement, even forcing the sale of the home our kids were living in out of spite. When that fell through, there was a tiny crack and she tearfully asked to try to reconcile. I was elated and we started counseling with a very good therapist. The groundrules were a commitment to twelve sessions and no contact with the AP. I thought we were making progress, but after a few weeks she admitted to still communicating with the AP and we she started to see the therapist alone. When we met together again, she told me she wanted to stop therapy and complete the divorce. A switched flipped in me at that point and I asked her to just leave. I think she had more to say, but I just stood up and opened the door. Any love I felt towards her ended when that literal door shut. I had a very validating conversation with the therapist and that chapter of my life was over. I have been very low contact with her since.