Finding the truth underneath a multi faceted, long term ugly lie is like getting at the centre of an onion by peeling off the layers one at a time. With cuts on your bare hands. After the first few painful layers; fingers red and burning with pain, your eyes weeping, you really already know how much each subsequent layer will hurt. But if you really want the centre of that onion in one piece, you must keep peeling, no matter how excruciating.
Such was the case when I began to peel back the burning layers of deceit my husband had been using to hide his other life. The life where he sought and found casual sex outside the boundaries of our marriage. Each time I found another layer of painful lies, the burning in my soul sought to blind me with rage. I wanted so badly to know all the truth, but each layer of that onion was just eating me from the inside out.
I tried to save our marriage. I went to lengths I had previously thought unimaginable. Engaging in an intimate relationship with him even after learning the truth, was something I had always thought (and even said) I would never do. But with twenty-two years of life and family hanging in the balance, I thought it a small price to pay to save what I thought was worth fighting for. I was wrong. When, a mere twelve hours after leaving a relationship counsellors office, he was once again in bed with his lover, I realised our marriage was over. I say, 'I realised', because clearly it had been over for a while - he just neglected to tell me.
When I could no longer believe that any effort on my part could convince him to give up these other women, I packed a changed of clothes in a bag and headed to the home of a friend for a few days. Those days were filled with tears. Tears of pain and heartbreak, tears of burning rage. Onion tears.
Little did I know in those first couple of days, that what was coming would make everything so much worse.
Peel off a layer of that onion, and find a rotted one underneath.
Three days into my well earned Cry Vacation, the ManPig (as I have now been known to call him), moved his lover into our home. Forget the human/porcine creature responsible for shattering my existence, what kind of woman would do this to another person?! Henceforth, she is to be known as The Dirty Rag. It seems wholly appropriate, and I can think of nothing worse.
He not only makes no apologies for his actions, he flaunts his relationship with this person all over town. Sitting in restaurants. Drinks in the pub. This is not a man. His grown sons are furious with him. His daughter-in-law refuses to allow him to see his grandchild. He has made himself persona non grata. And the worse part is,...he doesn't see it at all. Until someone outside the family gets right in his face and confronts him, he will never clearly see what he has done. Perhaps a few someones.
There are more layers to this stinking onion. Many many more. I have uncovered a lot of them, but I daresay it's probably like the tip of an iceberg. Sometimes you just need to put that onion down, and let a friend sweep the pieces into the bin. It's time to stop peeling the onion. This one most likely has no end.
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