Again, Why am I doing this?

I sent an email to a few of my close friends telling them about this blog. The first thing I thought this morning was, "what will Lynn think?" Lynn is my therapist. She is fabulous. I started going to her about 5 months ago. Much of her focus is on what your thoughts are doing. For example, if I sit here and think about the infamous night (October 27th, 2007 at 9:45 pm) and I run through everything that happened--what I felt, what I did, what I wish I did....my body will experience the same response. Yes, I will get my heart rate up because evil neurohormones will be released. I will clench my fists, sweat, my blood pressure will rise. Lynn will say that you say to yourself, "hurry up, go back and fix it." Well, there is no way to go back and fix it. What has happened is done. So why write about it? I like to look at this as a mental colonic. Once I write it down I will be done. I have an appointment with Lynn this week. I wonder what she will say when I tell her about the blog? I notice that I am not feeling the same emotions I had that night as I type the story. It is almost like I am writing a story of fiction.

Okay, back to speeding down I-10 to Lafayette to the place that never really felt like home. I bet you are thinking, "girl, why didn't you call HER?" Oh Honey....remember how I had to keep hitting buttons to keep his BlackBerry from going into password mode? I started forwarding all the putrid emails and texts to my phone. After I tried my sister and I spoke to Annie the ex wife, I called HER. She answered the phone on the 2nd ring with a sultry voice. She thought it was him. Somehow I pulled it together. In a clear confident voice I introduced myself. I asked her if she knew I existed. I told her that if she thought she had gotten herself a catch (I could tell from their correspondence that she had been in my house and my bed) that she needed to think again. I let her know that I was heading back to Lafayette to pack and that he was all hers now. I also let her know that I had the majority of the equity in the house and that when I went, the house went. She was quiet as I listed off what I knew and what the future held. I paused and she said, "I don't know want you're talking about and quit harassing me." My other line clicked, it was Annie. She had Googled the soulmate and had her address. I was almost to the place that never felt like home. I told Annie to email me the address. I wasn't ready for that just yet.

I went into the house and the first thing I did was go to his computer. We had a lap top in the kitchen that John mostly used. I was on a mission. I started to look at history. I broke into his mail and easily figured out his password (his boys' birthdates). Where do I begin...the first thing I saw was her myspace page. Yes, the soulmate had a myspace page. She was Vietnamese and 29 years old! He was 47 at the time. Her page showed a picture of her next to her Lexus. It said she was a "Christian." Another picture showed her with 2 children. It said she was married. I continued on to other Internet history and emails. I saw that her name meant "Peach Flower" in Vietnamese. From this point forward I will refer to her as that--Peach Flower. I found numerous emails from a site called AFF. Recall from the glossary that is Adult Friend Finder. Apparently my husband was looking for "discrete encounters throughout SW Louisiana." I read that he had varied interests such as travel and wine. He described himself as well endowed (MORE on that later...) OH MY GOD....I went to the bathroom and dry heaved.

My cell phone rang. It was the camp number. This was going to be good. I picked up and said hello, "Baby, where are you?" he asked. I explained that I was in Lafayette. "Why?". I repeated Peach Flower's text, "I love you and I can't wait to see you tomorrow." He didn't miss a beat--he said, "how am I going to get home? You took the only car that is out here." I hung up the phone and got the keys to his car. I went through his car like a crazed woman looking for more evidence (as if I didn't have enough already). In the console I found a bottle of pills labeled "Natural Sexual Supplement". Okay, it was really turning into a comedy/nightmare. I opened the bottle and poured them all over the car. I then took the mat from the side door that read "Home Sweet Home" and shoved in under the steering wheel. I walked back into the house and the phone was ringing. It was Mr. Looking for Discrete Encounters Throughout SW LA. I barked "hello". He asked me to put his keys and BlackBerry in his car. He said he was going to get a cab back to Lafayette. Okay, I may have appeared naive up to this point,but a CAB in the backwoods of Springfield, LA? Really? You guessed it--Peach Flower picked him up (I found that out later).

It is now after midnight and I am on fire. I move on to read emails from "MILF Finder". Yes, a site to look for MILFs (a derogatory term easily found on Google). Rico Suave had a similar profile on this page. He again used his sons' birthdates as passwords. I promptly switched the profiles on both sites to read that he had a very small penis and that he was married and frequently cheats on his wife. One screen name he had chosen was "Lonely1228." I could have sat at that computer all night, but I knew I needed to pack. I grabbed boxes from the garage and started in the kitchen. I called U-Haul to see when they opened. My sister called me. I went through it all to her disbelief. This guy had us all fooled. She said she would fly to Louisiana. I told her I would let her know my plans. 0200 I called my good friend Jim Birch (name change again). His friends mostly refer to him by his last name. He lives in Colorado. He answered on the first ring. I sobbed to him. Later, he told me he never leaves his phone on at night or in his bedroom. That night he left it on at his bedside. I truly believe an angel was looking out for me. Birch stayed on the phone with me and I wailed.

0400--Man About SW Louisiana calls the home number from his cell. He says he is going to stay at a hotel. I tell him at 1000 a.m. he is to go to U-Haul and I give him my list of what boxes and packing supplies to buy. He says he is in the driveway. He asks if he can come in. I let him in. He cries. I cry. I scream. I ask why? He has no answers. He tells me he is sorry. I lay down on our bed. He lays down on his side and rubs my back. I want to pummel him, but I am so exhausted. We talk about how to make it work. I ask the typical questions-who is she, is this about sex, we have sex all the time, is it because I'm ugly...ugh, I shiver when I think about the crazy questions I asked. I now know it had nothing to do with me. I don't remember what he said but something knocked me back into reality. I told him he needed to leave and to be back no later than 10:30 with my boxes. I got up and resumed packing.