I'm still in the process of releasing some of my writing, hoping it will help others understand the emotional impact of infidelity to the BS.

This is a letter written last fall. Again, it was private journaling and the letter was not given to my wife. It was much more an exercise in organizing my thoughts at the time.

This was my state as I approached the last major triggering event. Another major trigger date is rapidly approaching. I brought this letter out to compare my feelings then and now. I feel very different this time. I dare hope that what I�m feeling is growth and healing.

The letter:

Eight months ago, I didn�t think I�d still be here, standing, with an intact family. Eight months ago, I couldn�t manage surviving day-to-day. Eight months ago, I didn�t live hour-to-hour, or even minute-to-minute. Eight months ago, the passage of my life was measured between breaths; I lived from one breath to the next, many times, hoping the next one wouldn�t come.

The emotional pain was intense, burning, as if I was on fire. There was no relief at the time, and I�ve come to find there is no extinguishing agent for the betrayed. The only course of action is to let the fire burn out.

It came as a complete surprise to me that I had given someone this much sway in my life, that your infidelity would so affect me.

As I approach the first anniversary of the pinnacle of your affair, I find I underestimated the impact of such a triggering event. The pain is different, though, more profound, if that�s possible. Not like the fire that engulfed me before, it�s more like a deep, aching throb, growing in repetition and intensity as the day approaches. It�s the kind of deep pain that signals something is terribly wrong inside of me; something is broken and requires urgent treatment.

Within hours of uncovering the first proof of your infidelity, I knew I was in the fight of my life. I focused on improving my physical condition. I focused my mind, honed the inherent skills I knew I�d need in the coming combat for my marriage, my life and my soul. In short, I instinctively turned my attention to myself, to my own well-being, my own survival. That�s where I�ve been for the last eight months: working on myself, trying to become a better person, the kind of person I want to be and know I can be. I think I�ve made fantastic strides. The work�s not done (probably never will be), but I�m pretty happy with where I am and very happy with where I�m going.

I think what�s been happening much more lately is that I�ve started turning my attention toward you.

The first thing I noted is: the veil through which I viewed you before was burned away in the conflagration that engulfed me as a result of your affair. Rather than the idealized version of you that I lived with for nearly 24 years, I see the real you -- the dichotomies.

- I see the self-sacrificing devotion you have for your children and the selfishness that led to seeking gratification outside your marriage.

- I see the strength of your family ties and your total disregard of our marital bond.

- I see a boss that exhorts honor and integrity among your employees, but who wallowed in despicable lies as you developed a secret life and desperately tried to bury it once it was uncovered.

- I see your warmth and caring, yet experienced the brunt and depth of your ample cruelty.

- I see your loving, nurturing nature, but hadn�t felt it in years.

- You have a huge heart that�s open to all, but which also harbors the most destructive pride I�ve probably ever witnessed in another human.

I don�t know if we�ll survive this. I don�t know if my love will withstand the scrutiny of you. I know it�s probably tortuous to be left in limbo, watching me waffle on renewed commitment to you. Your counselor admonished me for it. I don�t care what she thinks.

In the context of your infidelity, is it fair for me to reassess my position? Should I be allowed to go back and gauge your potential as a loyal spouse, as I did through our initial courting stage? Shouldn�t I be allowed to take my new-found knowledge and use it as a measure to determine whether it is safe to build a new union with you?

Yes, I think it�s fair. And humane. Much more caring than what you did.

You chose to hide your doubts, your questions, in the attention of another man. You weighed me, exposed and pre-judged, against your wistful fantasies. I was forced to perform against an impossible measure, and without the benefit of knowing I was being interviewed. You lied. You deceived. You manipulated.

You were cruel.

To leave you in a state of flux regarding our relationship, our future together, our marriage, is probably painful for you, I acknowledge, but it�s not cruel.

This is what honesty looks like.