In the weeks that follow betrayal, life becomes something different. I felt I wasn't present. I felt the ground shift under me constantly. I couldn't balance my emotions or my life. What did I know? What didn't I know? What was my fault? What was his fault?
I had to go to work. I tried to distract myself. I felt physically weak and mentally groggy. I sleep walked. And one day, I realized I didn't know anything. I thought about the stories I had loved to tell about our life together. How I traveled for 24 hours to Korea. How I didn't want to go and how I cried the entire way there. How the four hour bus ride to my base left me exhausted and enthralled by that beautiful country. How confused I was when I stepped off the bus.
My entire shop was there to greet me. All 10 or 12 of them. I was the first woman in my career field to ever be stationed in Korea. They all came out to see me. And as I stepped off the bus I saw the disappointment in their eyes. I wasn't hot. I wasn't fun. I wasn't even pretty. They melted away without even saying hi. My supervisor dripped sweat as he told me there was no private NCO room for me so I would have to share with an airman. He literally ran away. My husband stayed. He looked at me and asked me if he could buy me a beer. I nearly cried in gratitude.
We sat and talked. He took me to billeting because I refused to settle for a room less than what my male counterparts had. I wanted him to stay. I thought it was the jet lag, the stress. I wanted him to stay but I didn't ask. Later he told me he wanted to stay.
What a fairy tale. He had me at, "Can I buy you a beer?".
Now I saw with clarity what happened. He was a sexual predator. I was a vulnerable woman. It didn't matter to him what I looked like or who I was, he wanted a piece of ass.
A mutual friend told me years later that my husband said he was going to marry me even before he met me. After December 15th I emailed the friend and told him I knew the truth. My husband had said he was going to fuck me. My friend said I knew my husband too well. Sadly, I didn't know my husband well enough.
Everything I knew about my life was false. All my cherished stories were lies. My past disappeared in that instant. 20 years of relationship faded away. I could never tell how we met again because it wasn't love, it was lust and addiction. 19 years of marriage and I might as well forget every single day of it because every single day of it was a fabrication.
This was the worst thing that happened. I lost my past. 20 years became a gaping black hole and I found I could not even recall a single day without being laid low by the pain. Never go back, I told myself. There was a new narrative. My husband lied to me every single day of our marriage. He lived two lives and I let him. My real husband was a combination of the man I thought I knew and the man he really is. Remembering the past would serve no purpose, only pushing forward and integrating these two men into one would be productive. As I type I cannot remember a single day of our past before December 15, 2010.
I know there was one. I remember where we were stationed, where we lived, our pets, and our jobs. I don't recall how we acted. I remember we took vacations but I don't remember whether they were fun or not. I remember visits with family but not what they were like. I am erasing that past because that past never existed.
And worst of all terrible things we both destroyed our past. He did by marrying me and not being honest. I did it by marrying him and not being honest with myself. Strange, isn't it? How two people who are willing to live a life of lies and deceit can find each other halfway across the world. I suspect we would have found each other anyway.
