The Cheating Husband.

I did something today. Well, actually I did something the other day but it actually happened today. I applied to change my name back to my maiden name. I’m back to how I was before. You know, before the guy that destroyed me bounced into my life and changed everything around.

My Husband was a scumbag. One thing I don’t think I’ve spoken about all that much in this blog is exactly how much he cheated on me. A ridiculous amount. To be fair, you’d have thought I’d have learned after the first couple of times. But oh no. I decided to keep putting myself through the mill. You know, because I’m a twat like that.

We hadn’t been together that long when I learned that he had been sleeping with someone else. It was his ‘best mate’s’ girlfriend, and apparently he had gotten her pregnant. Apparently, when I was in hospital with kidney problems, he had smacked her about and she had lost the baby. I never found out the real truth but after a few weeks of lying, black eyes (his mate decked him), and more tears than he ever deserved, he finally admitted that yes, they had been sleeping together.

Do you want to know what else he admitted to? He admitted that when they (him and his best mate’s girlfriend) came to where I worked that one afternoon, it was moments after she had sucked him off in a pub toilet. He had been texting me the entire way through too. What a classy guy. What a fucking skank.

There were a lot cheating rumours in those early days but I wasn’t exactly an angel myself. He never found out though. That’s because girls are smarter than boys. That’s another story for another day perhaps?

We got married and on our wedding day, his mother decided to tell me and my entire family about the girls he had slept with behind my back. Yep – she knew it all and she told EVERYONE. On my fucking wedding day. Again, classy. And a fucking skank. He later admitted that he fucked a girl in the ass during a one night stand in the bed that I had to spend my honeymoon in.

Yet I still didn’t leave him… 

It wasn’t long after we moved out of the country that things started to go wrong. It was within the first two months of me being there that he cheated. It was about three months later that I found out. It was over a year later when I found out the whole truth. And that was only because he had caught gonorrhea. I got tested, I didn’t have it. Just so you know. I’m still proud that I’ve never caught an STI in my life.

It started out that it was just a random girl in a bar that he had met one night. Over a year later he told me that he had slept with a prostitute in a whorehouse without a condom, and that’s where he had caught it from. Yep, he liked hookers. So much so, in fact, that he went away to a tropical place for four months, snapped the bank cards so I had no access to money, didn’t talk to me the entire time he was there, and basically acted as if I didn’t exist, and he slept with more prostitutes. The number has ranged between 4 and 8. It depends on who you talk to and when you talk to them. For example, When I was sleeping with the Neighbours Husband, it could have been 8 or over. The Hubby admitted to four when he was on coke but later retracted that statement. That’s something I should probably mention – we used to do a lot of cocaine together and when we did, the whole truth would come out and every time, he would tell me about another time that he had cheated.

I’ve lost count of the amount of people he slept with, or reportedly slept with, while we were together, married or otherwise. There was the four hookers. Plus the hooker that gave him the clap. Plus the girl that he fucked in the ass in our honeymoon bed. Plus the best mates girlfriend. Those were the ones that he admitted to. The rumours were never-ending. No wonder I drove myself fucking crazy.

He always used to come up with the same excuses when I quizzed him about why he cheated. I didn’t understand it – yes I was a bit overweight (a lot but I was pretty delusional at the time) but I did anal, gave him head on demand, cooked his dinner, cleaned his home, did his laundry, and rode him whenever he demanded. We were married. I had moved to a different country for him. Why would he cheat on me?

It was because I was fat when it came down to it, and it was something that he repeatedly said… Just not always in so many ways. He didn’t like the way my stomach had stretch marks. He didn’t like the fact that my boobs and butt jiggled. He didn’t like the scars from my self-harming even though they were there long before he came along. He didn’t like my piercings. He didn’t like it when I had blonde hair. He didn’t like it when I had black hair either. He didn’t like half of my clothes. He didn’t like the fact that I was fat. He wanted to sleep with a girl that was skinnier than he was. He wanted to know what it was like to sleep with a skinny girl again. He wanted to experience a girl who’s hip bones he could feel. He said all of those things. He actually said them to me.

Why didn’t I leave? Because I was destroyed. He beat me. He beat me and he cheated on me, and on top of all of this, he crumbled me down into teeny-tiny pieces until I thought there was nothing left. He sucked every ounce of life out of me. If I hadn’t left, I would be dead. I would either have killed myself, or he would have lashed out a bit too hard and done the job for me.

I didn’t think that I could ever get any better. I didn’t think that my fat size 16 self would get anything hotter than the guy I had right there in my hands. To be honest, I’m pretty sure that’s why he hates me now – he can’t believe that I left HIM!

The fact of the matter is that if he had treated me right, I would have done all of that hard work by myself. Look at me right now – I’m happy with Jock. Deliriously so. We have our up’s and down’s and we fight all the time but honestly, I really fucking love him. I lost weight. I have more confidence than I ever remember having before in my life. And I feel good. He makes me feel good. Perhaps if my Husband had done the same thing, we would have stayed together.

But he didn’t.

He cheated on me.

A lot.

The prick.

It’s OK though – I’ve got my old name back now! <3