New York may have been another guilt purchase (as you can see, I am sceptical about everything these days and D recently accused me of demonising him and changing the narrative of our happy, loving marriage.  Errrrr – no sh*t), but a couple of months before I found out about the affair, we spontaneously, after a fairly hefty liquid lunch, booked flights to New York to see the Christmas lights.

As I mentioned, I had thought our marriage was in a good place during this time, and in the run-up to NYC, I had been really excited, but now it just felt like a huge, monstrous ordeal.  Something to just grin and bear.  In fact my whole life felt a bit like that at that moment.

“Nobody can start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”

– Maria Robinson

I suppose this is a pattern of my life.  I’m a crowd pleaser, I ‘grinned and beard’ it for everyone else on many occasions, and looking back now, I don’t know how I ever managed this trip.  We left 3 days after I found out about his affair, and although the bulk of it was a bit of a blur, there are a few things I remember:

– The taxi to the airport in the UK.  It was 3am and it was snowing which was fairly rare for our area.   There was something beautiful and exciting about it.  D held my hand all the way there, and I allowed him.  I had resigned myself to putting on a show while we were away, so that’s what I did.  My mum commented on how close D and I were.  I died inside.  ‘Is this for real?’ I thought, ‘If only you knew the heart breaking truth’.  I think I just wanted to keep him close to me so I could see exactly what he was doing.

– The flight.  We ended up sitting away from the others and I was relieved.  It gave me a breather from the Oscar winning performance I had found myself in.  All I wanted to do was talk to D about what had happened, what was happening and what would happen next.  I had become obsessed, and as we drank (a lot), we remembered some of the happier times in our marriage, and we also managed to formulate a plan to move forward.  We decided that we would just live in limbo land until the new year and then we would decide what to do with our marriage.  We had to get through NYC, a couple of important birthdays, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve, and for each of those occasions, we had parties planned.

Therefore, the best plan, or perhaps I was persuaded that the best plan, was to pull our sleeves up, put our best feet forward, and get on with it.  It was hideous.

– An evening boat trip around the Statue of Liberty which sent shivers down my spine.  It was simply beautiful.  And I hadn’t allowed myself to be in a photo with D because I hated him so much – although secretly, there was no doubt in my mind now that I was warming to him.

– An evening out alone, together.  We had a really good night out in a local bar, just the two of us.  It was fun.  The bar was packed and the vibe was energised and alive.  We enjoyed each other.  We laughed and we cried, and perhaps for the first time since I found out, I remembered why I loved him.  Perhaps I even thought we were going to make it – FOOL!  Guess what… perhaps this will be unbelievable to those who haven’t walked in my shoes, but we ended up having sex that night.  Good sex.  And I was furious with myself for allowing this to happen and for allowing myself to be swayed like this.  I’m letting my guard down to this complete and utter prick of a husband.  I can feel it and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

– On the way back, the pilot made an announcement that the northern lights were visible beside us.  And there they were in all their glory.  I had waited years to see them, and there they bloomin’ were.  Bastard Northern Lights.  How could they be there when I was such a wreck of horror?  Shattering the illusion I had built up in my head. No.  This wasn’t the right moment to be looking at the magical northern lights.  Gut wrenching.

– Generally though, I remember this dreadful feeling or emptiness.  I am an emotional person and I wear my heart on my sleeve.  There was a lot to feel emotional about in NYC, but this was an indescribably, awful feeling.  I couldn’t feel things like I used to.  And as I walked through Central Park, alone, in the snow, under the Christmas lights, past people, including my lot, (minus D who was in a bar), having fun on the ice rink, I wanted to curl up into a hole and never come out again. I couldn’t be happy or enjoy this serene moment, neither could I be sad.  I had this mystifying urge – What if I let myself go and shouted from the top of my voice, ‘My husband has had an affair.  I can’t cope.  Help me.  My life is awful and will never be the same again’, then maybe I’d start slipping down a spiral of self-destruct.  Despair.  Maybe that’d be better than this numbness.  I had to hold myself together.  There was no choice but to keep on going, and that was that.

Sometimes, those photos on NYC appear on the memories on my phone and I accidentally look at them.  Even now, I feel those debilitating and confusing feelings all over again.  The one thing I know though with certainty is that I never want to return to New York ever again in my whole life.