My Affair, how it Killed my Marriage, then Killed Me

This might be the toughest blog I write, it happened over ten years ago but haunts me to this day. I’m not really sure how other people view an affair, I’ve heard it’s exciting, new, boosts your self-esteem, well I’m living proof it is and it does until it isn’t and it doesn’t. I had been a stay at home mom for a few years after starting work when I was nineteen, it was wonderful and I loved every minute of it. My whole world became all about kid’s tv shows, kid’s songs, stroller pushing, swing pushing, play dates with my sis., Gymboree, well you see the pattern. I didn’t live in sweats and tee shirts and I put on makeup to attend every excursion so I never lost my identity and was happy to share it with the loves of my life. My kids and my husband were my world and I loved it! The kids got old enough for preschool and it seemed like a great idea to get back in the working world, just part time while they were in school. Prior to my re-entrance, I began working out pretty hard, my body was probably in the best shape ever. We had just moved to a small new town I knew nothing about and I had no friends which was fine with me, I have an identical twin sister and she’s always been my best friend, so much so, she moved to the same town. Anyway, I had no idea where to begin looking for work so when I saw an ad for a part-time secretary, someone suggested I talk to a neighbor whose family had been and still is well established in town and I did. She put me in touch with a friend of hers, a police officer (actually a sergeant and with no Police Chief, the most powerful man in town), who I only spoke to on the phone briefly when he agreed to make a call to the First Selectman, a good friend of his and also a former police officer, and get me an interview; there it began. I got a part time job in the Town Hall. I had always dressed up for work, hair done, heels, makeup and self admittedly I have always loved to be different, funky but appropriate; feminine clothes, latest trends, etc. It felt so good to dress up again and to share a purpose with my main one of being a mom. I got lots of attention, I really wasn’t like the other women I worked with, who would ask “”how do you walk in those heels,” “where do you get your clothes” and “who does your hair?” I smiled, accepting the compliments graciously, while I thought I could feel a small cut beginning from the knife being slowly inserted in my back. I was used to jealousy though and the ugly face it wore, but also naive in the ways of small town living, just how close every one was and what an outsider I was. One day, I saw a uniformed officer entering the town hall, he was very handsome with bright blue eyes and jet black hair. He peered in my office. I was anxious to meet the man who had referred me for the job, so once I knew it was him, I called him in my office to thank him. He seemed shy and we had a 30 second conversation. That’s how it began. He found a reason to stop by every day, we didn’t talk much at first, I thought he was cute but loved my husband (my second one, my first marriage happened when I was nineteen and he was twenty six, I was his third wife, but that’s another story). Eventually, an opening at the Police Department became available and the First Selectman personally asked me to take it, I was thrilled, it was full time during my kids “now all day school hours,” paid well and seemed like thrilling work. It was thrilling, but so were the constant compliments, extravagant gifts, dinners of my choice and amazing feeling I got inside for being wanted so much that came with it. I worked days, he worked nights (because he wanted to avoid his wife as much as possible, he never bad mouthed her, but told me he was in an unhappy marriage). We snuck around, had sex a lot, spent every minute we could together (although I refused to leave my kids to see him). I thought no one knew, everyone did. I thought I loved him, maybe at one time I did. He got divorced, promised me money, travel and a very comfortable life; I began dreaming. I filed for divorce even though my husband begged me not to. Then, I got rid of my attorney and decided to stay in my marriage, but didn’t stop the affair. I tried, he cried, got down on his knees in uniform on the street; I was weak, he was manipulatve. It was like I had two personalities, wife and mother and mistress. I got so good at splitting the two. Anyone who saw my husband and I interact would never have known my dirty little secret. My lover was powerful, he wore a gun and had more influence than anyone in town and that was so attractive, until it wasn’t. He would show up out of nowhere in his cruiser and follow me, just to talk, he would call my house and hang up on anyone but me who answered, he would know when my husband wasn’t home and call me from my backyard and he would boldly pull me over lights and siren to be “cute,” he even borrowed night vision glasses so he could watch me when I worked one evening in another town building. During our affair, I would be flattered by this, I thought he missed me and wanted to find me alone every chance he could. It took me years, after the affair, to recognize these actions for what they were; stalking! I eventually quit my job to try and save my marriage. He would call my new job a hundred times a day and hang up if I didn’t answer, only to call back thirty seconds later. Suffice it to say, my marriage ended, not because of the affair and the hell I put my husband through (he was more than willing to forgive, forget and try again), but because I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror without despising the woman who looked back at me and although he never made me feel that way, I saw the reflection of that same woman in my husband’s eyes every time he looked at me. Even after I got divorced, the stalking (I can finally call it that) continued and would still be going on if I hadn’t threatened a restraining order. My affair hurt many people, my husband, my kids, my lover’s wife, his kid, my family, but none so deeply or profoundly as it hurt me. Actions do cause consequences even when you’re caught up in something you perceive as wonderful. My humble advice, think twice before you hurt others, think a million times before you destroy yourself and be very careful what you wish for.

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