Mec,

I dug in my archives again, I have posted this several times before, but never when you were here, hopefully it helps.

In regards to the whole love/hate thing, I doubt there is any BS that has not felt the same. I know I did for two years. Slowly over that time, with work on both our parts, the hate and the disgust dissipated.

Knife In The Back.

We are sitting on the floor cross legged. My back is to Bob's back. Bob is holding a knife in his hand. The Knife is black and stained and very wide and long. Bob looks at the knife with uncertainty. Then with sudden resolve he plunges the knife into the center of my back, so deep he can no longer see the blade. My scream when the knife enters my heart from behind is ear splitting and mind shattering. The pain is like no other pain on earth. It spreads out from the wound and encases my whole body. It transcends time and moves along my whole life with him making it seem a lie. The loss is so great a hole it quickly consumes me taking all reason and restraint while making it's claim on my soul. I am nothing but negative emotions no good is left inside me while the knife remains.

I turn and look at Bob. He sees my pain, he sees what he has done. He is remorseful and truly sorry. He changes from a selfish shallow man, back to the man I once loved very deeply. I notice tears rolling down Bob's very pained face. He is so ashamed, the tears are for my pain that he willing inflicted on me. I reach around and put my fingers around the hilt of the knife still stuck in my back. Bob's hands cover mine and together we slowly remove the knife. When the knife is out we fling it as far as we can, so far we can't even hear it drop.

There is a gaping wound left in it's place, one that doesn't want to heal. Bob takes my hand and raises it to his face, soaking my fingers in his tears, looking deep into my eyes trying very hard to show me how truly sorry he is. Then together we take my tear soaked hand and cover the open wound in my back. His tears ease the pain and slowly work their way to the center of the wound. When they reach the center, the cold I was unaware I was feeling starts to melt. The wound begins to glow with a soft yellow light at first but slowly grows to encompass both Bob and myself. We fall into each others arms and cry together for what was lost. The wound in my back is no longer a gapping chasm of pain. It is closed. But and angry scar remains. I know with time and love and total commitment to each other that we can reduce the scar to just a freckle, maybe even remove it completely.

When I wrote this I was very new to infidelity and some what naive. The Knife has found it's way back into my back and heart many times through out our recovery. Each time we had to go through the process of healing the wound all over again, although I would say that the knife got smaller each time.