Blame

I had a difficult time explaining to people my reasoning behind leaving my husband after only four months of marriage.  Part of me wished that he had hit me or cheated on me because those are really the only two reasons that people hear and accept without question.  Instead I had to delve into the depths of what our relationship was really like anytime someone inevitably asked me what happened.  Though I could have simplified it by telling them that I cheated on him, which was the truth.  But it's not so easy to admit to being the bad guy rather than the victim.  Plus if I had just slept with this guy one time but was completely happy in my marriage otherwise than I probably would have just let it go.  Never told anyone, just store it away in my cellar.  I met Casey one fall afternoon at Hopworks.  My two year engagement of relentless planning had ended in one quick day two months before and I was left realizing that this was now it.  The wedding was something to get excited about, look forward to.  The rest of my life, apparently, was not.  Without all the wedding buzz to distract me I had been left to concentrate on what I'd secretly known the whole time. I've made a huge mistake.    I was doing my best to convince myself to accept it. I was just going to live a mediocre life that I for some reason decided to settle for.  But then I met Casey.  He was a few years younger than me, tall, full head of curly hair, sweet smile, out for a beer with his dad, a firefighter.  I didn't exactly get to know this guy in the few minutes that we chatted at the bar.  But in those few minutes, Casey became everything I ever wanted and it suddenly dawned on me.  I married a total loser.  The marriage felt like a trap, suffocating.  And I realized I had been feeling this way for the last four years but was numb to it.  Something about the mere existence of Casey woke me up, shook my shoulders and slapped me across the face.  Looking back now I feel grateful to Casey for this, though he doesn't know he did anything.  But at the time it was just torture.  Turned out we were in the same bowling league.  And every Wednesday I'd slip off my ring and pretend I wasn't married.  I'd go back to his place afterwards and in the morning wake up to hateful texts from my husband.  Whore  he'd call me Slut.  Cheater.  And I would be appalled that he would call me such names, would make such accusations, despite the fact that they were true.  He never did know this though.  I mean not beyond a hunch.  The absolute easiest way for me to end that marriage would have been admitting to it.  But I just couldn't do it.    Not only because it made me look bad, that it confirmed suscpicions that I couldn't actually be faithful to anyone ever.  But also because it let him off the hook.  And the truth of the matter is, he called me a whore, slut and a cheater long before I met Casey.  He belittled me by telling me I wasn't doing a good enough job cleaning the house or pointing out imperfections in home improvement projects.  During a volunteer work day at the school, he yelled at me in front of all my employees and the vice principal of the school, because he didn't think I had a handle on volunteer management.  I was completely miserable.  But if I just told people who asked what happened to my marriage, if I just said "well, I cheated on him and he left me,"  then none of that even matters anymore.  Expressing love to someone else somehow trumps being a total asshole.  And I just couldn't let it be that way.