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An Open Letter to My Cheating (Ex?) Husband

I moved on.

By Kellen KearnsPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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“There comes a time when you have to decide to either give up, or grow up. You chose the former, and it’s devastating.”

In every fairytale, there’s always the evil step-mother or the big bad witch that comes between Prince Charming and the naive simple girl bound to fall in love. In our fairytale, you were charming and I was certainly naive in every sense and fashion to the point of believing every sweet, fib-tainted word uttered into my ear late at night. That fairytale was my dream, my plan, my hope... as it turns out, it wasn’t a fairytale at all. It was just another lie you told me.

We fell in love the way rain falls from the sky on a seemingly beautiful day. It was so sudden and unpredicted. I looked at you, and you at me, and that was it. Three years, a marriage, two kids, and countless scandals later, we’ve found ourselves here.

I think back to that green-eyed, handsome comedian that I so effortlessly gave my life to and I wonder what happened to him. One minute he was there in front of me, the next he was long, long gone. That man is no longer you. You are someone completely different, and I know why. Her.

She aided the change into the monster that is now your personality. You forgot about me, your children, our family, our promises, our vows, and you allowed her into your arms, into your heart, and into your bed. It is a disgusting place that a lot of men tend to find themselves but I never thought you’d be one of them.

Yet there you were, sneaking around with her at your work. Sneaking her around our so-called friends who kept the secret from me as well. Sneaking her around my children so that the four of you could play “happy family” while I was blinded from the truth and made to look like a fool. I wanted to forgive you. I did, eventually.

I tried so hard to win you back. I loved you THAT much. Over time, however, I realized that I was just heartbroken, lonely, and of all things... bitter. Somewhere between crying my eyes out over a tub of ice cream right in front of our 2-year-old saying “it’s okay Mommy,” and fishing for quarters in the deep crevices of my vehicle to scrounge up enough money for diapers since you left us with nothing and don’t pay child support, I moved on.

Maybe I moved on because I realized that any man (scumbag?) that would willingly walk out on his family to satisfy a overly easy co-worker and shatter everything into tiny pieces isn’t worth the heartache. Maybe I moved on because our children needed me to for their sake, so that I could care for them to the best of my abilities. Or, maybe I moved on because I realized I deserve to be happy, and happiness lies nowhere within a 100 mile radius of you.

Whatever it was that sent me over that blissful edge, all I can do is say thank you. Thank you for showing me what true love really is. But mostly, thank you for showing me what true love really isn’t.

breakups
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