I Still Get Triggered

My post triggered me, as I pressed the PUBLISH button.

I find so much irony in my life, that seems to connect to the affairs my ex-husband had.  It's been 7 years, 3 months and I still get triggered.  

My 10 year old son was in the kitchen with me the other day, and he'd asked for a refill of juice.  After I finished filling it and barely returning the juice to the fridge, I heard the sound of the cup fall over and liquid hit the floor.  His instant reaction was, 'Oh my god, mom I'm so sorry!' I didn't react, I just walked over, grabbed a few paper towels and told him, 'You're good dude, it was an accident.' He said, 'you're right mom, everyone makes mistakes.' Triggered!

While I cleaned up, I took the time to explain to him what the difference between a mistake and an accident.  I refilled his cup, he smiled at me and said, 'thanks mom! I love you,' before he retreated back to his room.

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It was a few days after my discovery, I looked at my ex-husband and asked him why, just why?!  He started off telling me it was an accident.

Accidents happen unexpectedly, so I wasn't buying that load of bullshit.  He corrected himself and said, 'you're right it was a mistake.' No sir, a mistake is when you actually learn from a bad decision. Then it came out of my mouth like word vomit, 'you made a choice, over and over and over again!'

He chose to give them attention, and much more.

I do find some humor in the affair since we aren't married anymore and it reminds me what a piece of shit he really was, is, whatever.

I remember reading messages from the first one. She was the 22-year-old, younger sister of his next affair, who also had a boyfriend. 
Her: 'WYD'
Him: (Googles WYD) 'thinking of you.'

Yes.  He actually Googled 'WYD'. If you're wondering how I knew he did this, is because women like me should be hired by the CIA or FBI.  In short, it was the timestamps that lead to this small discovery.  

You'd think if a 48-year-old man was having to Google texting acronyms, it would be a sign. No. Instead, he was mirroring her, and I never saw it.  A man who never text me things like, WYD, IMU, ILY, K, should have told me something was up, but instead I thought he was just catching up with the times of quick cute text messages.  

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7 years, 3 months and I will never fully heal from the damage he caused me.  Did you know the brain and body rewire itself when trauma like this happens?  Here I am, this far down the road still trying to repair the damage.

I see myself ironically compared to a crystal champagne glass.  No, I'm not curvy or perfect, however I'm a woman who devoted herself to what I considered to be the richest client in the world. This is how my marriage once made me feel, despite all the red flags and issues.

Take that glass, and fill it with the most expensive, flavored, crisp, coveted champagne in the world. You feel desired, shown off and you're the centerpiece of every toast.

Now drop it on tile, midair, watch the pieces shatter, and the liquid spread. 

I've since then gathered every large piece and some of the smaller ones too, but it's the shards I'll never find.  The ones I will have imbedded into my feet after accidently stepping on them, because I wasn't thorough while cleaning up.  That glass, like me, will never be the same.

This is what I explained to my ex-husband during our last exchange of the kids. He said, 'I know you better than anyone. Same ole' (my name).' 

I literally laughed and told him, 'you don't realize, that person died the night I figured out what you did. You knew her, but you do not know me now.'