The Tofu and Hummus: You're welcome, Vegans.

Now here's where shit gets interesting.  Hold on to your underwear.



I'm a hot mess.  I'm frazzled.  My hair and skin look like absolute shit.  I'm living off of the Dunkin Donuts menu.  Suddenly I realize this feeling is all too familiar.................I feel like a single mother again, the only difference is that I now have two kids instead of one and I'm....um.....married. 

 A while back when Josh and I first moved in together, he received a sample cd in the mail for a free trial of a game called World of Warcraft.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  It's the game that ruins lives and relationships?  So Josh installs it on his laptop and doesn't leave his laptop except to eat and go to the bathroom.  For those that have no idea what I'm talking about, this game is highly addictive.  You create your own character and basically fight your way through different levels, purchasing "gear" that helps you achieve these levels faster.  You're online with other players and have the ability to chat with other people, form guilds, and have battles.  The types of people that play these games, aka "gamers", are the kinds of people that Josh used to make fun of, which is why I was surprised he took such an interest in it.  


When the free trial ended, he kind of let it go because he didn't want to pay the monthly fee to continue.  However, he eventually discovered similar games to WoW that are free to play. 

Around April 2010, Josh downloaded Shaiya, or as I call it, "Homewrecker".   At this point he wasn't playing it as much as he eventually would, but he was constantly online searching for better and newer products to import from China and sell here.  At this point, I was hoping a nice Chinese man would just tell him to get off the computer and hang out with his family or find a real job or get a hobby.

I hadn't done anything with my friends in ages.  Since I was the only one bringing home a regular paycheck, there was no extra money.  My friends and my social life were, at one point, very important to me.  I used to be Jen "Let's Do A Shot!" Crittela.  I didn't even know who I was anymore.  What's even worse is watching everyone else with their seemingly perfect lives on Facebook going on vacations, wine tours, going to concerts, having house parties and playing beer pong.  I couldn't even remember the last time I played beer pong!  Maybe it was because I was playing beer pong.......  Needless to say, reading my friends' statuses and looking at their pictures was making me miserable.  That's not how it should be. 

In August, Josh and I were both in one wedding, were invited to another, and had our own anniversary to celebrate.  We had already been to two weddings earlier in the year and Josh made it very clear that he was over going to weddings.  Yeah, ok, I get it.  Most guys would rather watch The Notebook than get dressed up, sit with a bunch of people they don't know, and dance with their date.   But we get free food!  And there's usually alcohol!  And sometimes, even that's free!!  He survived the weddings.  He wasn't happy, but he survived.  I regretted taking him to my dear friends', Bill and Krista's, wedding because he was sooooo miserable the entire time.  Actually, I didn't even see him for most of it because he found other people to hang out with.  Le sigh. 

Our second anniversary was less amazing than our first.  We went out for sushi again.  I was pumped because we had not gone on a date in FOREVER.  I was dying for some one on one time, sans children and computers, and desperate for us to reconnect.  After we ordered our food, Josh began talking about Shaiya.  The amount of time he had spent playing the game had increased quite a bit over the last few months.  I don't remember being able to get a word in edgewise during the conversation.  He talked about the game throughout dinner.  I would have interrupted and asked him if we could talk about something else, but I didn't know what else we would have talked about.  Instead, I pretended to be interested and let him carry on.  I remember wanting to stab myself in my eye with my chopstick just so he'd ask me if I was okay. 


The lack of communication between us worsened.  He was more and more agitated by the children and I had given up on caring about how I or the house looked.  I was barely keeping it together.   A few times I tried to tell him that he was spending too much time playing the game, and that I wished he would, at the very least, watch a movie with me and the kids.  He did a few times, but he was visibly annoyed and immediately went back to playing the game when the kids went to bed.  Even though the office was right off the living room and I could see him from the couch, it felt like he was on the other side of the world.  I tried to get his attention by randomly coming up behind him and hugging him or kissing his neck but he just placed his hand on my arm and patted it.  I'd say, "I love you and I miss you"  and he would say, "I love you too, why do you miss me?  I'm right here."  But he wasn't,  he was playing with the Homewrecker.  He might as well have been in Middle Earth or whatever dimension he was supposed to be in. 


I know. Wah, wah, wah.  Stay with me, peeps. 


I really thought that if he was working, Josh would spend a lot less time playing the game. So I took the initiative and started job searching for him.  I found out that a restaurant downtown was looking for a line cook, and he applied and got the job.  Yay!  

Nay!  He wanted to play the game even more!  At this point, our relationship is rockier than Balboa.  Thanksgiving rolls around, we travel downstate to my mom's, and it's awkward.  He doesn't want to go, but doesn't really have another option.  So, as you can imagine, the whole trip was suuuuuper fun. 


After the holiday, on the way back home, Josh tells me that he wants to get away for a week.  I'm thinking, Get away from what???  What is it that you need to get away from???  He tells me that he connected with a group of friends from culinary school in Florida through playing Homewrecker.  They moved to Iowa and started a catering business and he wants to go visit them.  I was at a loss for words.  Um, excuse me, but if anyone needed a vacation and an opportunity to reconnect with friends, it was ME!!!!  Of course, I wasn't about to fight with him on a road trip so I didn't really say anything.  


------Get ready because shit's about to hit the fan-------


I started noticing that Josh is texting quite a bit and doing weird stuff, like bringing his phone into the bathroom with him. He's also staying up late and not coming to bed with me.  Not sleeping in the same bed with your spouse, bf/gf, dog, cat, whatever, creates a lot of distance between you.  There's something comforting about being that close to someone and listening to them snore.  Anyways, my intuition kicked in and I started to think that something's up.  My memory is not the greatest.  I don't remember if I asked him flat out at this point if he was cheating on me.  If I didn't, I should have.  Up until this point, I had no reason not to trust him completely.  I never went through his phone, emails, or Facebook messages.  It just wasn't necessary.  But now, I felt as though it was necessary.  


One morning, I woke up early.  Josh was still asleep, on the couch, with his phone laying next to him on the floor.  Shaking, I picked it up and went to his text messages.  Sure enough, the evidence was in front of me.  The first thing I read was "I love you", but it wasn't meant for me.  It was meant for someone else whose number was from a different area code.  


In that second, I felt my heart break.  It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.  My legs morphed into jell-o and my eyes welled up with tears.   Then I remembered something Josh had told me shortly after we got together.  "If you ever cheat on me, I will not hesitate to leave you.  I love you so much that I don't think I could handle it if you cheated on me," he had said.   I was like, "Ok, geez! I would never do that to you."   I thought it was kind of weird that he said that in a threatening type way, but he had also told me that every girlfriend before me had cheated on him, so I excused it as him just being scared about getting hurt. 


And here I was, reading about how he loved someone else.  I continued reading.  Blah blah blah, you're amazing, blah blah blah, never thought I'd find someone like you.  Then, I read a message from the girl that said, "I'm painting Zoe's room right now."  Oh hell motherfucking no.  I went through his pictures and found a few of a naked girl, duckfaced, with her arm extended and with her phone in hand to take a picture with.


I woke him up immediately and confronted him with what I had read.  He just looked at me with shock and bewilderment.  "SAY SOMETHING!"  I yelled.  He explained that this girl was actually an ex-girlfriend from culinary school who had moved to Iowa with his other friends (remember that trip he wanted to take??).  I wish I could remember everything I said to him.  I do recall telling him to leave.  He apologized over and over again and talked me into letting him stay.  He told me that he had been stuck in this fantasy world for months and although it wasn't a good enough excuse, his feelings for this girl weren't actually real.  Even though there was no physical contact between them, I considered it cheating.  Especially, because he was so bold as to tell someone else that he loved them.

It almost would have been better if he had just slept with someone and there was no emotional exchange of words involved.  I beat myself up, wondering what I had done wrong, what made him look for an emotional connection with someone else who lived 12 hours away, when I was in the next room.  I may not be Heidi Klum, but I'm certainly NOT an asshole.  As if I needed more to be self-conscious about, I felt like this was my fault.  Maybe I should not wear the same t-shirt all weekend?  Or maybe I should just walk around naked after the kids go to bed? Or not leave the house without make-up?  I felt lost and alone and like no one could relate or understand what I was going through.  Instantly, everyone thought of him as an asshole.  But I didn't marry an asshole.  I married someone who loved the shit out of me.  Who told me I was beautiful even when my hair was frizzy and I had crusted drool on my chin.  Who couldn't wait to spend his life with me.  Who laughed at my stupid jokes. 

What the hell happened?