There used to be honor in keeping your legs closed to a married man. The social outbreak of the side chick is a badge of honor for the new age broken woman; purgatory for where she is and where she wants to be. Where love is really lust and desire is starvation for attention. No relationship is perfect but who can defeat the demons they love to play with?
Trust is unpredictable; one moment you have it, the next moment you don’t. I prayed for understanding and God listened and told me my true love would give me heaven without betrayal. So I listened to my husband’s tongue physically and spiritually. His beautiful tongue that caused waves of running water but crushed my spirit with inaccurate truths, erased messages, and confusion. I read in between the lines of passion and deceit and found something that didn’t belong; a side chick who craved what I built without the sweat equity put in with years of marriage, love and children who made us better human beings.
People are funny that way; acts of flesh become debauchery when we lose our way and forget to seek understanding. What goes through your mind when you give your soul away for temptation and broken promises? When you are on your knees, worshipping him like God and he fills your mouth with our joined flesh, that’s the sweet taste of my afterbirth and alimony filling your emptiness with karma and defilement. What love brought together, no side chick should separate. You don’t know that God wouldn’t send you a married man and the devil answers prayers too without authority?
So here we are. That moment between forgiveness and moving on; where wives becomes exes or doormats. Do I stay because I fear failure? Or move on with the rug swept from under me? Marriage can be such an ugly thing, kept behind closed doors because the process isn’t for the world to see. But there are rainbows after storms so there is beauty after pain, sometimes.
But now he loves me with the pain of stillborn fetuses. Or aborted babies with no voice. I mourn inside for the day I said “I do” and I died inside the day I had to lie to the judge and say “I don’t”, but I knew I had to move on. It’s a miracle the day where two become one, promising forever to one another. What happens when one becomes two again? What’s the opposite of a miracle? I hoped that we could stop depriving one another and devote ourselves in love and promise so that we wouldn’t fail because of a lack of self-control and understanding. How could I teach my daughter self-respect when I lost myself in the confusion of his adultery and the closed door process of marriage? Is nothing sacred anymore?
There is no light in fixing a broken man who still wants his wife but there is death in disobedience and brimstone and fire for side chicks. The truth is he stopped treating me like magic, so I disappeared. Everyday feels like my funeral so I pray and am reminded my true love would give me heaven without betrayal.
In prayer, pain, and darkness, I learned to move on and love the sound of my footsteps walking into the woman I was meant to be. Too many people want the payout of love without the payments; there is no fruit of love without the harvest. So I prayed for light and in my darkness found strength to pray for everyone inside, and out, of my marriage.
Being a wife can be a thankless job; when you are his peace and one day, he leaves you in pieces, replacing you with someone basic without baggage and babies after you put him on your back and carried him because you loved the man he could become. But I still tried, like wives do. I feel admirable and ridiculous, but I tried. Sometimes, there is too much ugliness in the past to have a beautiful future.
He is yours now, dead on the inside, left to face the consequences of you. Stuck with a physical manifestation in you of his bad deeds with a woman with nothing to offer, willing to give her all to a man who has earned nothing. And he will take from you physically what you are attached to emotionally and leave you with nothing, as he still admits to me, his wife, that he loves me and the child we bore together in matrimony. With every act of betrayal, you will die a little more inside wondering how you got here and if he is telling you the truth with the same lips he used before God to say “I do”. For you, your emptiness, and self respect, I offer three words:
Rest in Peace.