It usually always starts out with suspicions, or that's what they say, anyway. Sometimes, though, it just comes as a shock. Either way, it is a kick in the stomach.
I was stuck in the in-between. I would hear things around the office, but I rarely saw it for myself.
"They are just good friends," I'd tell myself, refusing to admit that the way he lit up when she looked at him was inevitably more than a "just good friends" look.
What was strange to me was that he still looked at me that way. I was completely convinced that he not only still loved me, but he was also in love with me. I often thought, "Is it possible for my husband to love someone else, and still love me?"
I felt so many emotions that the "kicked in the stomach" feeling I once felt was no longer comparable. I was surrounded by sadness and misery, and then just when I thought my pain-filled tears were about to wash me away, an overwhelming emotion creeped though every single fiber of my being: guilt. I started blaming myself.
My mind was constantly filled with a million things I could have done better. I was positive that if I had just made him his favorite meal a couple more times or assured him of my love more often, then maybe he wouldn't have cheated.
As time passed, I realized he wasn't just cheating. It had nothing to do with sex (as much as I wished it was just sex). He truly loved her. Even if I always had the house clean or laundry done, it still wouldn't have prevented this.
I began to feel jealous, and in my head, it became a competition of who he'd spend the most time with. My happiness streamed from her jealously.
To my surprise, he spent most of his time still with me. I felt safe and comfortable with him, despite the constant reminders that he loved someone else, too. This led me to be somewhat comfortable with his love for her.
I had heard rumors of her husband beating her, and I would often see her crying in the restrooms. I would sympathize with her and even hug her.
Can you believe that? I was being a comfort to the woman who had cheated on her family and wreaked havoc in mine.
I saw how he was a comfort to her at work. I saw how her day got better with his presence, and how he had the ability to stop her tears and pain in an instant. I began to resent her less and less each day.
In this, the love I had for my husband grew. I saw his kindness firsthand, as well as his goodness and his tenderness.
It seemed as if each time I started to fell anything negative toward him, it was overcome with love. Even when I really wanted to hate him, I couldn't.
I always thought that someone who cheated on his or her spouse was selfish. That was until I was reminded of my husband's kindness toward everyone he comes into contact with, especially me.
I always thought that someone who cheated on his or her spouse must not have respect for that person. That was until he proved me wrong with admiration and appreciation.
I always thought that someone who cheated on his or her spouse was unloving, but the love I feel is unwavering. It is the kind of love I have never dreamed of having. It is the kind of love that never stops growing and only gets better with time.
I always thought if my husband cheated on me, I would turn into some crazy bitch who would burn the house down. Instead, I'm grateful for my husband's affair. It probably still means I'm crazy, but I don't mind that.