Break Week: 3, Kummerspeck
I've ruined my life. Yes it was me. All me. Sure, I could blame Gina for a remark that caused a fight between Ethan and I. Or, yeah, I can blame Ethan for pushing me, and causing me shy away from him. I can probably blame Hoyt for pursuing me even though he knew I was married.
Yeah. I can blame all of those people. Wrongly blame them. Because in the end I fucked up my life. Not these people.
Let me see. When did I last write in this thing? Oh Jesus. Two months ago? The day I was going to spend the night with Hoyt. Ohhh. (That was a groan, by the way.) I no longer get a chill thinking of Hoyt. Oh no. That involuntary reaction has been replaced by a knot it my stomach, which I promptly cover with food.
I don't even want to re-hash the play-by-play of all of this. (Funny, when things are going good, I want to write down everything, remember it all. Now that my life has gone to shit, I don't want to talk--write--about it.)
The sleepover with Hoyt never happened. Ethan found out what was going on. Wait. That deserves capital letters. ETHAN FOUND OUT WHAT WAS GOING ON! A friend of his saw Hoyt and me on one of our lunch dates. Saw us holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. Of course the friend told Ethan.
So, Ethan knew for two days before confronting me. He confronted me the day I was supposed to stay over Hoyt's. The day he was supposed to go on his business trip. Probably less than an hour after I finished my last diary entry.
After finding out about my infidelity, he was able to postpone his business trip by a couple days. (Side note/question: Is it really considered "infidelity" if we never had sex? Stop stop stop. I have no defense. I was wrong.)
Ethan just came out and said it. Didn't look like he was struggling to find the right words. He just said, "Heather, I know."
Of course, he didn't really know. Well not all of it. All he knew is that his wife was holding hands with another man at a diner. He didn't know I was developing feelings for Hoyt. Or that we planned on consummating the relationship that night.
Ethan's three words turned me into mush. I cried and apologized until I ran out of tears and words. He made me tea and gave me some cookies. Yes, HE got ME tea after confronting me about cheating.
Fuck. I seriously messed up.
That night, I slept on the couch. I was the one not worthy of the bed. Honestly, I didn't really sleep much. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, eating. (I tend to do that when I'm sad. Most people I know can't eat when they're upset, I eat everything I can find.)
The next day, Ethan and I talked. I told him everything. How the affair started, my feelings towards him and his family. There was more tears, and more eating.
I think the worst part was how nice Ethan was being. Rubbing my back, holding my hand, handing me tissues. He should have been mad at me. He should have yelled. But he didn't. He let me talk until, again, I couldn't talk anymore.
He still went on his business trip the next day. Before he left, he kissed me on the top of the head, told me he loved me, and gave me a warning. He basically said that if I go to visit Hoyt, I should not bother coming back home.
Those four days he was gone were so difficult. I had no interest in Hoyt at this point. But, I was in limbo. Did I want to be with Ethan? And did I even get a say in the matter if he didn't want to be with me?
I worked from home those days Ethan was gone. Between the tears and the constant eating, I didn't want to leave the house.
I refrained from contacting Ethan. I don't know if that was a mistake. I just figured he needed time to focus on work, and clear his head.
By the time Ethan returned home, two things had happened. One, I gained about five pounds from emotional eating. And two, I decided that I really did--do--love Ethan and wanted to make our marriage work. I was determined to do whatever it took for him to forgive me and give me another chance.
Well, Ethan decided on something different. Separation.
He said he needed time. He was going to rent an apartment. We'll both continue to pay the mortgage on the house, but he wasn't going to live here.
I was grateful that he let me stay in the house, and that we continued to split the mortgage. But he turned my world upside down. I kept second guessing (third guessing, fourth guessing) my decision not to call him while he was away. I thought I was doing the right thing. But was radio silence a detriment?
We had to tell people. Our friends and family all know that I'm a whore who fucked up a good marriage. My boss knows! I had to tell my boss, because the separation has been impacting my performance at work.
So, yeah. For the past two months I've been living by myself in this quiet lonely house. I haven't contacted Hoyt. I've ignored his texts, phone calls, messages. They stopped coming about six weeks ago. I don't know what he's thinking. I don't really care.
I've gained about 15 pounds in the last two months. Thankfully, I haven't seen Gina. I can't deal with her shit. I've seen Ethan a couple times. He's stopped by to pick up his mail, or things he left behind. He still has a key to our house. I wished he used it more.
What prompted this entry was a phone call from Ethan. He wanted to let me know he was going on a date tonight. He said he wanted to tell me so I didn't find out from someone else. I'm not sure if that was a dig at me or not.
After that phone call, I cried for an hour, and started writing. Oh, who am I kidding? I was crying while writing this, too.
I need a break. I can't think about this anymore. I'm going to bed.
After I eat my pizza, of course.