Always snooping, never finding

2006 or maybe 2007, that is when I overheard Music Man laughing with our cheating neighbor about how everyone cheats. That was the day my heart changed direction a little. I knew what I heard and I never doubted for a second the accuracy, but I still did not have what I needed. I needed to catch him red handed through txt, email, phone, in person….something and it just wasn’t happening. But something else was shifting and it wasn’t healthy in the least.

I started going out more and more with my girlfriends. Just having fun, flirting was not something that came naturally to me, so I began to practice. I ran with a couple of different groups of girlfriends. One group in particular all cheated on their husbands. It was how they self medicated from the emotional abuse and cheating by the hands of their own husbands. I was always too scared but I did kiss a couple of guys while out on the town. It was never fireworks and stars and it was not remotely addictive for me. I come from the school of thought (probably because I have 3 brothers) that when a guy hits on you at a bar or other public place, they are likely looking for a temporary parking spot for their weenie. I had my share of lovers before I got married, but there was always some work involved…dinner, a few phone calls, something that made it clear they wanted to get to know me a little at least. So for me validation did not come in the form of some drunk strange man slobbering all over me. I never liked the feeling of being used and it kept me a very well behaved married woman.

Our lives continued to hum along….I was always snooping, never finding. Music Man was coaching soccer, home every single weekend if not out somewhere with me or playing a gig. Sometimes he took clients out but always home by 10. Oh wait…. I failed to mention that Music Man was very intense. He would sometimes dissapear into his studio for an entire day and come out 15 hours later with 4 new songs written and recorded. He played all the instruments and sang the vocals. It’s all I ever knew with him, so I just sort of accepted it. He was like a buzzing bee, working all day, running around with clients or us at night and at bedtime his head would hit the pillow and he was out hard every night. Drinking was a big part of his life and now I see how it was self medication. Otherwise he may have never slept. Music Man rarely got sick, but when he did, wow. He would go to bed for two days, sleep hard and be back up buzzing around in no time. Somewhere in the day to day living of our lives my snooping slowed down. I was too busy, another move, back surgery, a miscarriage and then two years later, yet another move. Music man was amazing when I had back surgery and equally amazing to me when we had a miscarriage. I think the amazing way he cared for me was sort of a penance for him. A penance to atone for things still unknown to me. Soon I began to sense that familiar restlessness in him. He was tired of the office he worked in…another opportunity with the company…better money….yada yada yada….so we were off on another moving adventure.

After settling in on the west coast for move #4, we were so busy enjoying our beautiful new life, I began to forget about the past incidents. There were still times when Music Man got drunk and would be ornery and rude, but here on the west coast, he wasn’t traveling much and I felt more secure than ever before. I loved our new (rented) home, and the kids made many new friends. Warning sign I ignored….Music Man had his regular cell phone, but now also a work blackberry. Hmmmm…But me being me, once music man was out for the night, I was up scouring through that blackberry with a fine toothed comb. ugh nada. I hacked his social media looking for clues. He had lots of female colleagues, but no funny business on his social media.

Fast forward 2 more years and then came the time where Music Man wasn’t feeling too confident in his new position. He was making arraignments to take a job with the same company back in our home state. I did not get a say so in this. How could I argue? Home prices on the West Coast were comical, and job security would allow me to stay home and keep focusing on my kiddos. Also we would be close to family again, which I missed. We had a few months to plan the move and I guess somewhere inside of me, I did feel some resentment.

That’s when the closest slip-up to cheating I ever had came along and flirted with me. He was very handsome and worked in a grocery store. I would feel his eyes on me whenever I was shopping and finally he struck up conversation. He was very West Coast handsome. Over 6 feet tall, dark full head of hair, an amazing jawline and built like a marathon runner. We talked about how I wasn’t from the area and he offered to take me out to show me some sites before I moved back home. No way he cold have missed the big diamond on my finger, but I chose to not ponder on that. I was scared, but I gave him my phone number and he soon called. We went hiking once and to a lunch and a movie. I remember him pressing me up against the car and passionately kissing me in broad daylight. I remember feeling his manhood against me and I remember being scared shitless! It was broad daylight. A part of me didn’t care. A part of me always wanted to say fuck you back to my husband for the make out session he had so many years ago. But me being me, common sense set in. I was like “what if the moms in the neighborhood see me?” (they would have probably high fived me.) So I pulled away and continued to enjoy the attention of his text. Mr. West Coast really wanted me to go to his apartment and invited me several time. Hell no. Honestly, maybe if I had the tummy tuck and fake boobs, maybe I would have been brave, or maybe I’m just not designed to be a cheater. West Coast man gave up after a couple of weeks and after seeing him fawning all over another woman with dark hair, dark eyes like me, in the grocery store, I’m so glad I kept my fine china on the shelf.

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