Though I have been traveling this road for quite some time, I’m new here – not new to reading the threads, just new to posting. Let me give you a little background first.

In May 2005, I stumbled across strange activity in my wife’s call details on my cell phone bill. I noticed 40-50 calls to my friend (neighbor) for lengthy periods at odd hours of the day/night. Bottom line, through hours of discussion, she finally confessed to the affair with him that had been going on for a number of months. Like everyone else here, I was blown away – I didn’t want to lose my family and was willing to do whatever it took to make it work. We started counseling the next day, which turned into me going by myself after the 3rd week – she made every excuse in the book. It took about 6 months, but we sold the house and moved across town. I assumed we were working toward recovery, that is until February 2007. She had planned a “romantic” weekend away for us and I left work early to get packed. As I was going through her nightstand (still don’t remember what I was looking for), I found a CD in a book. When I opened it on my computer, I got the shock of my life. Not only had the affair not ended, I now had the pictures in front of me to fill in the horrors my mind created in May 2005. I then installed Google Desktop (everyone should have this) to search for snapshots of web/email activity. As you can imagine, I found emails that blew my mind. Needless to say, I packed her clothes in a garbage bags, sat them on the porch and told her to get a ride home to get her stuff. I shielded the kids the first time, but they got home from school as she was sitting in the living room begging for another chance. The kids begged me to try one more time (thinking it was the first time). I think this is where I went wrong. Even though I agreed to try one more time, my heart has never been in it. The best way I can describe it is like a blown light bulb – you can put all the electricity in the world to it, but it just doesn’t work. I’ve gone back to counseling, I’ve read the books, I’ve prayed more than you could imagine…I’m just numb. I love my wife and want the best for her, but I have nothing. I’ve practiced what I’ve preached – “Love is a verb not a feeling”. I iron her clothes daily, I make breakfast, and we go out on dates every other weekend. I can tell you for certain that I have seen a complete change in her since February 2007. This is the root of my struggle – she has changed and is now investing, but I can’t seem to pull it together to do the same.

It’s been 4 years – I’ve given as much as I know how. More than anything I want to love and be loved. Please tell me someone else has been down this path and it gets better at the 4 1/2 year mark!! Does the “emotional switch” get flipped back at some point?

First of all, ouch! That had to be horrible to see.

In your case I would get in contact with the Harleys as soon as possible.

I wish you all the best.

Your timeline is similar to mine. My D-day was in 2005, and it wasn't really until the end of 2007, that my FWW quit with all the nonsense and started working on things.

I can say that initially, my heart was really not into it. It's better now, but I'd have to say that some days I'm not all the way there.

First off, not that it really matters all that much, but you're just 2+ years into recovery, and I imagine what you are feeling is not completely unusual at the 2 year mark. Also, I think BS's that push through false recoveries get a different timeline.

The only thing that has helped me is to be honest with my FWW about how I feel. It has been difficult. I can't fully describe it, but for me, it is hard to switch to being honest about my feelings, after such a prolonged state of detachment. I had gotten to a point where I just sucked it up and kept moving forward cause it was obvious to me that my FWW didn't care about my pain.

How honest have you been with your FWW about your feelings? If you are withholding these things, you aren't going to feel intimate with her, no matter how much time passes.