Separation, Day 2

After I posted yesterday’s entry, I emailed my wife for permission to write about this on here, because writing has always helped me organize my thoughts. She replied this morning with “I don’t mind if you publish it… but at least tell the truth… I know you voice chatted with her.”

Yup. I lied. A great first misstep on the road to rebuilding trust, I know. I wrote that I never asked to hear her voice, and that wasn’t true. We did voice chat a few times, though the Discord software. Sometimes just normal stuff, like what was going on with our days. But twice we went all the way into the equivalent of ‘phone sex.’ I listened to her masturbate while talking to her, telling her to do things that I shouldn’t have. And that’s the horrible truth of it.

So why did I lie about it? I’m not entirely sure. I think part of me doesn’t want to come across as the monster that I was, but if I do that, then that might give the impression that my wife overreacted, and that this was nothing to get all that upset about. So that will be my second promise. I will be open and honest about everything, even if it makes me look more horrible. It may seem hypocritical to make a promise right after admitted that I lied, but that’s something I’m going to have to work on.

Would I have corrected myself if she didn’t call me out on it? I don’t know. If I’m being honest, and I just promised that I would be, probably not. I probably wouldn’t have even remembered that I lied. So I should add that to the promise as well. As long as I remain honest and open, the situation won’t come up again. I read back over the first entry for anything else untrue, and didn’t find anything, so from here forward it’s going to be the brutal truth.

Last night was the first night of her not being in the house when it was time for bed.  The previous two nights I slept in the guest bed, but there was still some comfort in knowing she was in the house.  I can only imagine how her night went, sleeping in a strange place for the first time, and it breaks my heart to think of it. She didn’t even take her stuffed animals.

I put my wedding ring on yesterday for the first time in over a year.  I stopped wearing it because it was too big after I lost a good bit of weight and it became too loose.  It’s made from tungsten, so it’s heavy. I was worried it would fall off and go down a drain or something and I didn’t want to lose it.  I’ve gained most of that weight back, but my finger didn’t fatten up that much, so the ring is still loose.  But it’s comfortable.  It’s a reminder that I have some growing to do before I can be worthy of fixing our marriage.

I managed to sleep some, though, most likely out of sheer exhaustion. Every time I woke up, I felt the weight of that ring on my finger, and it was a comfort. I’m glad that it’s heavy. The weight was never something I got used to, and I think that’s a good thing. That tiny tug on my finger, reminding me of heavy responsibility of the vows I took, and later broke. I don’t want to get used to the weight. I want to carry this reminder with me, to keep my responsibility in my thoughts. Complacency was the beginning of our problems, and I have so much work ahead of me that a little reminding encouragement on my finger should help.

A year seemed like a long time when I first thought about it. But then I realized that the pandemic happened in over a year, and while it did feel like it dragged on for me, that was because I was home and isolated for most of it. Looking back, it was barely a blip. That terrifies me, and I’ve already had what I can only assume is a panic attack twice when I think about it too much. 364 more days to try and improve myself enough that I can rebuild a sturdy foundation beneath our marriage. Just typing that out makes me want to throw up the half-cup of cereal I just ate. It’s going to be so hard… but there is nothing in this world worth as half as much to me as her love, so I have to try.

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