I Need To Wake Up

A sad side effect of the shock of finding out about the affair?

The first couple weeks I wasn’t hardly sleeping (let’s be honest the first year after discovery).

But the first couple of weeks were different though, I think it was the shock, coupled with the bouts of endless crying, that made me sleep like the dead.

I have always been a dreamer…I have had dreams of flying, dreams of being in high school again, dreams of epic battles of good and evil, dreams of losing my children, sometimes dreams in which I got to be with people I had lost…I have always had dreams when I slept.

Suddenly I wasn’t dreaming and the sleep I feel into was like a short death…everything around me stopped, time, all feelings, and my memories.

Those weeks were torture for me, because every morning I would wake up and for just a brief moment I had forgotten everything, then I would remember and the pain…ALL at once would come back, it was horrible, I relived all of it Every Single Morning… until I thought I would go insane.

It wasn’t the pain which made it so bad, it was the brief moment of peace, the spilt second where my old life free of hurt and lies met my new life.

I don’t do it anymore, I think my lives finally found a balance between them and stopped fighting inside me, in the darkness of sleep.

The last time I remember it happening? The wave of knowledge rushing over me, as I came out of sleep…innocent of the hurt waiting for me?

My husband was home for his visit two weeks after the affair came out, and he had come by to bring the boys breakfast and take Laney.

I was still asleep, and he let himself into our house (he was staying at a hotel).

He found me in the bedroom asleep, curled up around our daughter…how long he stood there watching me? I don’t know…but I woke up to him watching me sleep, with a sad smile on his lips.

I remember smiling at him confused by his look of sadness, reaching my arms up to him and shaking my head

“What’s wrong?” I asked him and then the wave washed over me and I started to cry. “It’s not true?”

I begged him with the tears of a new day streaming down my face.

He bent down to hold me and I pushed him away.

“Why?” was all I could say as I curled up into a ball and let the knowledge of the affair take the place of the peace I had found in sleep.

I miss not knowing, of having no thoughts of the affair, of my husband with “the whore” in my daily life.

I miss the peace I once had in my heart and my head.

I have started dreaming again, sometimes they are ordinary dreams, but I never wake up innocent to the knowledge of my new reality.

It sucks…and what suck’s even more?

I’ve gotten used to it sucking.

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