One of the hardest things to get used to is the loss of my husbands family. When you marry someone you marry not only them but their family too. You marry the bickering, in-fighting and drama that every family has. It becomes a part of who you are because they are your family now too.
But when my husband left me...they did too.
I knew it. The rationale part of me expected it. But that didn't soften the blow.
The night I found out about the affair, before M could complete her 3 hour drive to take care of me, one of his sisters, one of my best friends came to see me. She wanted to be there for me. She cried. I cried.
She said he had told her he was unhappy in January. That it was about kids.
She told him to talk to me. He didn't. She didn't hear anymore about it, when came over and hung out and seemed fine to her. She assumed we were fine. Funny, I thought we were fine too.
But he never told her of the affair, not until that day when I found out and from 3000 miles away he needed someone to go check on me.
Her first question was if I wanted her to leave? Was she going to make it worse because she was his sister? I said no. She promised to be there for me and until he said he wanted a divorce the first time she would check in.
Since then its been crickets.
This is someone I talked to almost daily, got pedicures with, took tennis lessons with and was the godmother to 2 of her 3 boys. And she is gone.
I have heard from her 2x since. First an email about decor for the house now that its on the market. Not once did she ask how I was doing.
The second time was a text to tell me she was glad to hear my cat came home.
His parents live 8 houses down the street. I saw them once after he said he had made a mistake in telling me he wanted a divorce the first time. They were taking a walk around the neighborhood and said hello. Asked how I was. How do you think I am doing?
Had I have done something wrong, anything, it would be easier. However, the only thing I am guilty of is loving their son. I love their son with my whole heart and was willing to give up the things that make me who I am to make him happy. But none of that has warranted me a phone call or even a note telling me they are sorry or wishing me well. They raised this man to be who he is; a man who cheated and left his wife. They can't even tell me they are sorry.
The only person I have heard from was his uncle. Primarily because he is our real estate agent. When he called to go over the details of listing the house he told me was sorry. That he thought my husband was making a huge mistake, that he sounded confused and that he told him not to do it. But it just fell on deaf ears.
So in six years of loving someone and being a part of their family the only person who tells me they are sorry is his uncle. It hurts.
But my husband is their blood and I was only temporary, something to sweep under the rug. I will be cut out of pictures and they will pretend I never existed. The boys that I love so dearly will not remember me and will not even know that I existed. But their memories will stay with me forever.