I worked on Sunday, 11-7. I work every Sunday, around 5 I get a phone call from j.
-Can you come home?
-Why what is wrong?
-Umm...there is something I need to talk to you about.
-Well, what is it? you are freaking me out?
silence
-I found a condom wrapper...and I found some things you wrote...
-You found a condom wrapper huh? You found some things I wrote. So now you take an interest? Now you are going through my journal? Now you care about what I am doing?
-Well normally I wouldn't go through your stuff and I found all these pages and I just wanted to know what was going on (trails off)
-Whatever, I did not have sex with him, if that is what you want me to come home for then that is silly. I will see you at 7:30 when I get off.
The "condom wrapper" he found was the ripped off bit of one of those packets of flower food that comes when you buy flowers, he "found" it on the fucking kitchen table, next to the irises I had bought for my fucking self.
Jon then ACCUSES me off having condoms in my room. Ummm, I am married, I hear, in some marriages sex even occurs.
It is stupid on so many levels I don't even want to address it or discuss it. Things are just devolving.
I have taken to writing some of my more erotic fantasies/dreams, (this is what he "found" in my drawer next to my bed) -They don't involve my husband. I am sure it would be easier to take if it was about someone else, someone I didn't see, Drew Carey perhaps but it wasn't. I am thinking I may put it up here, see if I can't get any feedback. It has been a long time people...
Anyway it is forbidden to have guests when j is gone. This has to be the worst "love triangle" ever. How am I really still not having sex with anyone?
FML.
