I called my husband today to tell him about the paperwork needed for me to buy my apartment. I need something from him saying that he won’t need alimony from me. He says he’ll do it, and I trust him on that. We’ve never been weird about money; I’ve earned my own and he’s lived off his dad. It would be odd for a trust-fund man to take alimony from his wife, but he doesn’t have any official income from his father, hence the bank’s request.
I told him about two things coming up that are legitimate, but with lies attached. First is a climbing weekend. It was arranged in February as part of a climbing club I’m part of so all that is honest. However, I’ve invited a person I met on a dating site, one who seems like maybe a keeper. My husband would never go, and it gives me time to hang out with this new person, see how we get along. I’m looking forward to that.
The second is that my cousin’s baseball team is organizing an open house and a softball tournament for those who want to play. I told my husband weeks and weeks ago about it, but he forgot. However, after that I’m going to spend the night with my ex-cop.
So each legitimate thing is attached to some half-lie. I hate going back to that; my vacation has also been a vacation from lying. I even had a one-night-stand, and feel better about that simply because no one knows, and no one got hurt.
I don’t feel much guilt now about it, though. It seems more and more reasonable to leave someone because we don’t have sex anymore. It may not be important to everyone, but it is to me.
I also feel “better” about the lying, because I’m not going to admit that to him. I made my bed and I have to lie in it. The price of cheating, for me, is keeping my damn mouth shut. I’d probably feel better if I told him, but he wouldn’t.