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Knowing the Unknown

June 29, 2005

A long standing argument that eventually lead to the decline of my marriage revolved around an incident that happened shortly before our first wedding anniversary.

I was married to a highly insecure man, and although we had exchanged wedding vows, he was constantly paranoid that I would either a) cheat on him or b) find someone better and run off with him (ironic, isn’t it?). It got really old after a while, but I put up with it.

The thing is, I knew right off the bat that marrying him was a big mistake. Within two months of our wedding day, I was really depressed and wondered why I had gone through with it. It was at that point that I realized that my feelings of cold feet really were my gut telling me I was making a bad choice. But it was too late. I had committed, and I wasn’t just going to walk away. I began journalling my feelings, thinking nothing of it, and that helped me to deal with the emotions that were raging through me.

It was about that time that I became friends with my previously mentioned guy friend. Details of this newfound awesome friendship were also mentioned in my journal full of mixed feelings, and I suppose that out of context, I can see how it all happened the way it did.

One rainy day in January, I went off to work as usual, and when the entire day had passed without receiving my usual phone call or e-mail from my husband, I called his work to see how he was doing. He said, “you’re the last person I want to talk to right now.” Shocked and panicked, I hurried to leave and head home to find out what was going on. When I got there, our entire apartment was trashed, including our wedding pictures that his parents had enlarged for my birthday. Later on that night, I found out what had happened: he had read my journal.

At the time, a close friend of mine had just found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her, and I was struggling to deal with how anyone could do that to another person. The topic was among many conversations with my husband for a few weeks. Somewhere in his insecure mind, he had twisted it to believing that I was trying to confess to him that I had cheated myself. As he showered for work that morning, he says he had an overwhelming feeling that something was amiss, and he got out of the shower and went looking for any shred of evidence that I was being unfaithful to him. Even he admits that this feeling was totally unfounded and had no idea where it came from.

What he found was my journal, full of doubt that I had made the right choice, along with glowing commentary on my newfound male friend (who, btw, lived in Denver). My husband concluded that I wanted to run away with my friend, and tried to leave me that night.

We worked through it at the time, but he never healed from that incident, and now blames his infidelity on that fact.

The constant argument was, “was I wrong to have written such things about my marriage and my husband?” or “was he wrong to have read them?” We never did see eye to eye on that, and still don’t, to this day. His argument was that if I wrote them in my most uncensored moments, they must be true, to which I agree, to some degree. While that may have been how I felt at the moment, it wasn’t that I spent days, weeks, or months feeling that way, and I eventually grew past those feelings.

Which brings me to my current dilemma: The tables have turned, and now I am the one who is in the know of some very hurtful things that a friend said about me to another friend. In trying to decide to forgive or cut the ties, I struggle to answer the same question: “was this person wrong to have said these things, or am I wrong to know that they were said?” I am not sure if these things were said in a moment of frustration or anger, or if that’s how this friend really feels. Yet I can’t confront my friend on it, without giving away the fact that I know. So I’m just stuck on what to do.

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