Were this weekend an actual person, there would be a large bag of flaming dog poop left on their front step and a smashed up mailbox.
I started the weekend getting over a really bad head cold- and then it went downhill from there.
I ended up reaching out to someone who is in the Ex From Hell's life because I felt this person should know that they weren't alone in what they were going through. Although my intentions were good, this backfired on me big time. I always thought that knowing the details of his infidelity would give me some sort of closure (mainly because he got off on lying to my face about it) and would support the fact that I wasn't being paranoid, my intuition was spot on.
It's the same "need to know" feeling you get when you hear that someone has died and you feel like it's important to find out how they died. The "how" doesn't matter- nor does it make it any less suck that the person is dead. There is no logic in a betrayal or a loss that someone justifies it in any sense of the word.
So yes, it's devastating to hear that not only was your Ex cheating on you- they were cheating with as many people as they could buy (prostitutes are cheaper overseas), and they were also planning to write a book about it with their stripper-obsessed loser friend. (I did break down and send said loser friend a FB message about how much of an asshole he is.) This is someone I knew, spent time with and even spent time on business travel with. I'm sure he got off on it as much as my Ex did.
I remember my Ex getting pissy every time Loser friend started having serious feelings about the current girl he was financing. Turns out, that made the Ex go out of his way to bang all of Loser friend's girlfriends as well.
(How's it feel to be the one getting stabbed in the back Loser?)
So it goes without saying that anything involving the Ex takes me back to a dark ugly place that I don't belong in. As much as it hurt to hear the truth and as much as I cried for the dumbass Me that was trapped in a shitty marriage for eight years, I needed this. I needed to see things as they are, to accept them and to leave them in the past where they belong.
The most important lesson I pulled from this fuckery of a weekend is that none of this was about me.
I can't say I was hurt by the man I loved because I didn't love him, I didn't even know the real him. I loved the person he painted himself to be until he couldn't hold up the façade anymore. He loved the person he pretended to be when he was with me and he loved the fact that he could peel that face off the minute he stepped out of the door. I can't be hurt by the fact that he never loved me because he is incapable of love. I think his inability to feel love or empathy was one of the main reasons he was a genius at manipulating others. If you had any fraction of an insecurity- he could spot it from a mile away and twist it however he saw fit. He could weave layers of deception like a goddamn spider and even highly intelligent people were totally conned by him. If he had chosen to help instead of hurt people, he really could have made a positive difference in the world.
~The Evil Twin