My W and I went to see Les Miserables a couple of weeks ago. I should have posted then when the movie and all these thoughts were still fresh in my head, but I�ll try to cobble my thoughts together the best I can.

There were several part of the movie that really stood out to me and represented various aspects of my 20 year marriage and my journey out of the fog. For those who haven�t read all my other posts, you should know that I have never had an affair in the �traditional� sense. However, I have spent most of my marriage in a fog as I have been having an affair with thousands of 2D images.

The last year of my marriage has probably been the most difficult since it has involved the most change for me. As I am coming to an understanding of the damage I�ve done to my wife, my family, and myself, I am experiencing heartbreak, guilt, and shame. Unfortunately and fortunately, this is healthy. It�s the consequence of sin; it�s my conscience coming back; it�s the man I wanted to be when I was newly married emerging from the ashes of deceit, lies, and infidelity. It�s painful, but it makes me know that (1) I�m not hopeless (I CAN actually feel empathy), (2) I can change (the pain motivates me to not screw things up again), and (3) God loves me; my being able to feel even a smidgeon of my wife�s pain somehow tells me that He is watching out for me AND my wife, that He cares enough to give me signs of recovery.

So what does this all have to do with Les Mis? A lot. But first�spoiler alert!! If you haven�t seen the movie, take your spouse before reading any further. You�ll be glad you did � it�s a great story of change, repentance, and forgiveness. (side note: I�m surprised Hollywood allowed it in theaters since the message is SOOOOO Christ-centered and that�s just not like them�but their loss is our gain!)

The first scene I�d like to discuss is when the Javert (the police sergeant dude) throws himself into the river. Why does he do this? Because he is incongruent. I know what it�s like to be incongruent; to have my conscience and my flesh at war; to have my emotions collide with my morals; to have everything I ever learned make no sense anymore; or in Dr. Harley terms: to have my Taker battling my Giver.

There are several options one can take when he/she becomes incongruent. One option is literally to end it all like Javert did. I mention this since I had thought about it many times. Although tempted, I wouldn�t have ever actually done this because I had children and I didn�t want to deprive them of a father as I had been. So I didn�t choose option one. Option two: You can cave to the Taker and give it what it wants. This is a very ugly option. When you give in to your taker, you become a selfish person; nothing else and nobody else matters: religion, spouse, family all go out the window. This is the path I chose. I was in a fog which blocked my ability to see reality. I couldn�t see the beautiful children�s whose lives I would have devastated if I had kept going down my hedonistic path. I couldn�t see my beautiful wife who had sacrificed her life and her health to keep our family intact. And while in the fog, I turned my back on God. I thought he couldn�t see me or didn�t care. But the truth was that while in the fog, I couldn�t see him reaching out to me; probably crying over my blatant disregard for all that I knew to be true and correct. I suppose that what this would�ve looked like in the story would be Javert either arresting or even killing Jean Valjean. When you give into your Taker, you kill your own humanity; you put an end to your soul; you deny your potential. I�ll get to option 3 in a moment. Let me sidetrack for a moment with another scene from the movie.

When I told my W that I wanted a divorce, she essentially did the same thing that Myriel (the Bishop) did for Valjean. Here I had violated my vows, torn up my marriage card, and stolen the life of my dear wife. Just like Valjean repayed Bishop Myriel by stealing his silver, my wife had given me refuge and her commitment and I repaid her by literally stealing her life. When I told her that I was done, she replied by saying, �What can I do to change?� Just like the Bishop repaid Valjean when he didn�t deserve it, my wife gave me a second chance when I didn�t deserve it.

OK. Back to the incongruence that caused Javert to jump. The day after I had shared my intent to divorce and my wife asked she could do to change, she started searching for help: for her, for me, and for us. Even thought I was in the fog and seriously wayward, I couldn�t divorce her when she was actually willing to change. You see, just like the guy in the post called:� Very low attraction to spouse, HELP!� I never had told my wife about what I wanted her to change. I didn�t want to hurt her. At least that�s what I told myself. That was actually not the real reason � I didn�t want to be the bad guy (passive aggressives enflame others so they can be the �good guy� and point their finger at the other person: �see how out of control YOU are!?!!?�). I had no problem telling her she was crazy (DJ) and doing IB, but I didn�t want to stir the pot by telling her what I really wanted. I kept her in the dark of my real inner fears, concerns, and desires (severe lack of honesty).

I digress. So now that my wife was trying to change and fix things, I couldn�t really justify leaving her because now (view from the fog) she was trying to not be the problem. She was making an effort to change. I figured I�d give her a few months to make changes (lose weight, stop yelling, and disrespecting me), then if she didn�t change, I would have an excuse to leave and feed my taker.

But something amazing happened (and is still happening). Something amazing, but scary and painful all at the same time. While she was working on things and finding resources for help, I started becoming aware of myself: my desires, my feelings, my fears, my concerns, my shortcomings, and who I had really become. I was just like Javert standing on the bridge (or wall or whatever it was). I felt like I couldn�t fix me. I couldn�t do it. I wasn�t strong enough! I felt like I didn�t have what it would take to repair myself, my wife, my family, my relationship with God. There was no other way (in my foggy brain) � I just didn�t have what it takes. I understand why Javert jumped. I felt the same way he did � there was no other option.

But that�s not really true. And thanks to Dr. Harley, my therapist, 12-step folks, my wife, and many of the folks here (MelodyLane, HerPapaBear, Brainhurts, Markus, GloveOil, Zibbles, and many more), I didn�t jump. I believed them that I COULD change. I had a shred of faith in all these people. They believed in me when I didn�t believe in myself.

In the movie theater, when he was singing about his dilemma and about to jump, I wanted to stand up and sing: �I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend!� (�Jumper� by Third Eye Blind). The reason why was because I knew that there was another option. I�ll call it option three: step down from the edge (the fog) and take responsibility for my actions. Dr. Harley always says that feelings follow actions and I really needed my feelings to change, so I started changing my actions (read my �Gawk� thread to see some of my actions I�m doing) and now my feelings ARE changing.

�I can see clearly now, the [fog] is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It�s gonna be a bright sun-shiney day!� (Jonny Nash, �I Can See Clearly Now�). Truth be told, the fog is not completely gone. I can still sense patches of fog around me, but I usually know if I�m traveling through a patch. If I don�t see it, my W lets me know. Her letting me know doesn�t always look pretty, but I know what it is now: it�s her wanting re-assurance, comfort, and safety � it�s her wanting ME to be healthy. Sometimes it takes me a day or so to see that I just drove through a patch of fog, but so far, I�ve passed through stronger than before � with more resolve.

Poor Javert. You didn�t have to jump!

OK. Next scene. This one ain�t so pretty. In fact, it was the most disturbing scene of the movie (I haven�t read the book, but I�m sure it�s similarly vivid). Fantine certainly had it rough. She gave everything for Cosette: her money, her body, her self-respect, her dignity, and eventually her life. But the scene that drove it all home was when a �john� was having his way with her for a few lousy coins. There was a blank, lifeless look on her face as she was being violated. I thought of my wife who has given me 20 years of commitment as I violated her. Like Fantine, my wife became numb. After she had served my purposes of being my wife, having my children, earning money for our family, I was about to throw my coins on the floor (give her the house, car, and whatever material gadget she wanted) walk away leaving her there like a lifeless carcass. Damaged. Broken. Violated. Words can�t describe how ashamed I feel.

OK. One more scene. Appropriately, Jean Valjean is my hero. Just like him, I expected the world to change for me. I wanted God and my wife to give me what I deserved. Every chance I got, I took what I wanted (porn, masturbation, disrespectful judgements, IB, secret second life, having the nice little image of wife and kids for the world to see). I was just like Valjean 1.0 �I took the silver.

My wife on the other hand has been like Valjean 2.0. He spent the rest of his life trying to right his wrongs. In an effort to take care of Cossette as he had promised her mother, he went to save the life of her hope for the future, Marius. In order to save him, he had to carry him along, lugging him over walls and through streets. Ultimately, he has to carry his limp body through a sewer to safety. Fortunately, the movie theaters aren�t like that Disneyland ride that spurts our the scents of the scenery (California Adventure or something like that). I would have died. I was getting sick just watching it and imagining what that would smell like.

Then it dawned on me. That�s what my wife had done for me and is still doing. She had a load of ____ dumped on her and she has not let me go. She has been carrying me through the sewage in order to save me. No she�s not perfect. But she kept her vows. She didn�t turn to other sources that were less stinky than the path she was on. She carried me through the sewer. Whenever the thought pops in my head that we just won�t work, I�ll try to remember that image of my wife carrying her passed out (fogged) husband through the sewer. I can never repay her in full for carrying me like that. But just like HerPapaBear�s signature says: �Meeting my wife's EN's is my "thank you" that refuses to be silenced.� I�d like to change that for my wife to say: �Meeting my wife�s EN�s, not LB�ing, and not being a fogged out jerk is my �thank you� for her carrying me through the sewer that I put her into.�

Anyway. I wanted to get this out there in time for Valentine�s Day to let my wife know that I love her and appreciate all her sacrifices. I am getting better, getting healthy, and I am taking responsibility just like Jean Valjean 2.0. I want to be her hero. We don�t have to be les miserables!!!

Your thoughts and reflections on this film show a great deal of introspection, my friend. I do hope you have come to be comfortable with your existence as Valjean 2.0. As did Hugo's character understand, the past should be used as a record of the path traveled, and NOT as a beacon for where the next step is to be. Javier's tragic end was necessary, as he represented the anchors and bonds that prevented Valjean from finally putting "24601" behind him.

As an aside, my wife's favorite song is "On My Own". The words for her represent what she, and all WSs, risked in their flawed pursuits of EN-sourcing with APs:

And now I'm all alone again
No where to go, no one to turn to....
And now the night is near
And I can make believe he's here!
Sometimes I walk alone at night
when everybody else is sleeping,
I think of him and then I'm happy
With the company I'm keeping.

Wow... that's powerful