copied and pasted from RMC web board for my records:
He called his mom and told her the basics; that he'd cheated on me and was doing things on the internet and needed help. He's making plans to move back to New York. His mom is looking into treatment for him; if anyone is good at running other people's lives, it's her (not necessarily a criticism, she's very efficient), so he's in good hands. He asked if he could come over for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I said I didn't think it was right to ask me to spend the holidays with the man who had sex with strangers behind my back. He cried. I told him to get out of my life. He wanted to know about Gavin, I said he could talk about that when he was working on recovery, in the meantime he could see him when we go to Scottish dancing on Wed, while I'm there.
I feel like my good sweet husband died. Did I ever have one? I look at pictures now and wonder what he was thinking, who he was thinking about, what he had done with whom only hours before or after our happy little pictures. For the entire time.
