Evidence of the Affair

It is funny the crazy things our brains make up to save us from the truth.

It was just easier to consider the possibility that he’d changed his entire personality overnight than it was to believe that he would cheat.

he’s the same Ken I’ve always known and loved and still eats a turkey sandwich every day. It’s just that he’s capable of things I never knew.

Ken keeps them in the innermost compartment of his briefcase. Every morning when he takes a shower, I check that pocket. For curiosity’s sake, I’m almost happy when I find one. I always want more information.

I find it pretty easy to look like nothing is happening when everything has changed.

Ken and I have a life that works, however imperfect. And I believe he will remember that soon, and everything can go back to normal.

What are we doing? I can’t leave my husband, and you simply cannot leave your wife, and I’m afraid that if we carry on like this, it will only hurt everyone.

You are the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thought I have as I go to bed. I find it difficult to even kiss my husband now.

It hurt so much to leave you there. I did not want to come home. I love being the woman I am when I’m with you. I feel like everything in the world is exciting, and everything is something easy and fun to do.

There are so many things that have to be done in a day, and none of them are for me, none of them are what I want.

With you, I am enjoying myself. I am doing what I want. I am living, in our moments together, with no worries.

It is as if I have lived with a hard shell all over my body and you have cracked it and it has all fallen off. I am fresh again.

Am I weak for still not confronting her about it? I am scared for the things we will say that we can’t take back. I am scared for our children.

I also don’t know how much longer I can go on, living a lie, side by side with her. How much longer can I keep this all inside?

I prefer not to discuss anything with him until I know exactly how I feel about it. Ken has a frustrating way of always winning any argument.

I married Ken almost ten years ago. I can’t imagine a life without him. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I am afraid of losing all that I have ever known.

I spend every moment I am alone asking myself what sort of future I want. Instead of thinking of what has happened, I think of what will make me happy one day, hopefully soon.

I’m trying to think of better times, later in life—not so much the past or the present, but a brighter future.

How is it that she is capable of being two people at once? It pains me to think of what else she is capable of.

My mother has always told me that I have more opportunities, as a woman of my generation, than she ever had. She made it seem like I had an obligation to use them how she would have.

But Ken has been clear about wanting me to stay home and spend my energies on getting pregnant.

Lying has just become so much easier than telling the truth. I don’t remember when things got so hard. But life has been a matter of keeping our heads above water for years now.

I imagine that my husband looks at your wife and sees a real woman. And I am afraid that I will lose the life I have built to a woman who can give him what he wants.

I’ve always been struck by the idea that you can’t be all that happy something has returned if it doesn’t go away in the first place.

Sometimes, I swear, I’m invisible. And yet, frankly, David, I often find it to be a relief. I can’t stand the idea of him truly looking at me right now. There is so much I do not want him to see.

Sometimes I think mine might turn to stone any minute now, and yet every time I see you I soften, reminded of how you still choose kindness over anger at every step.

It seems as if you see me exactly as I wish to be seen. There is no greater gift than that.

Should we try to stop them? Is now when we confront them about all this? I worry it will only push them closer to one another. Trying to keep them apart may just be what solidifies them together. I’m not sure what to do.

How odd to feel confused that your husband is telling the truth. And yet, I have to admit, there was real comfort in that. It was as if the Ken I fell in love with reappeared: trustworthy, dependable.

I will leave Carrie in a heartbeat. She is not you, has not meant to me in ten years what you have come to mean to me in a matter of months.

You gave me hope and perspective and confidence. Right before you gave me my baby.

My life may not be perfect, but at least I can finally say it belongs to me.