Who'll blink first?

During the month of August traffic here in Geneva is great. Most people are on holiday, the kids are off school and there's not much going on at work - quiet time. Monday being 15 August it was even quieter since France, as a Catholic country, celebrates Assumption (I think that's how you write it) so it is pretty much a national holiday. All-in-all not a bad time to do the work run. It actually means I get home about 30 minutes earlier too - which can't be bad. So last night I got home around 6.30 pm and decided to pop in to Stan's cafe for a drink. It was hot so I decided to sit inside and chat to Stan as we watched the Olympics.

But bloody hell, sitting outside is my ex's tart - the skank that he left me for in 2010! Now she is actually from the village where I live and she and her new boyfriend - you know, the one she cheated on my ex with - rented a place in the village near me. In fact, it is so near me that if you look at the main picture at the top of my blog, across the field at the back of my garden is her rental property backing on to the same field. Maybe I should invite her over for a coffee sometime - or maybe not!

Don't get me wrong, I couldn't care less that my ex buggered off with her. Truth be told I should probably thank her (but I wasn't going to tell them that). I had wanted a divorce for many years and he wouldn't agree to it, nor would he agree to move out "cos it's my house"! Well, actually it was our house, or more likely my house, because I had put most of the money into it. I knew almost from the beginning that my marriage was a mistake but after getting married we moved to the States, where my first son was born. I knew if it would even be possible to get a divorce that I couldn't support myself and my son on whatever salary I could earn in the States. I also knew that his father would never agree to allow me to take my son back to Switzerland, where I had a job waiting for me and where I could earn enough to look after the both of us. And of course, as far as the US was concerned, my son was/is a U.S. citizen (although he is also British), so basically I was stuck in the States with the ex. I hated that feeling of being trapped!

Eventually though, even he hated our life in the States too and when I was offered a job back in Switzerland we moved back. We had another son but actually I would say life got worse not better. You know the score, two kids, two full-time jobs, long commute, etc. and basically just the usual pressurized life. As the pressure grew and grew my husband became more and more aggressive (he was aggressive enough to begin with) and eventually went from just screaming and giving orders all the time to actual physical violence.

While I documented everything, to the people who say "I wudda, cudda, shudda", I say you weren't living my life, trying to get by on three non-consecutive hours sleep a night so I don't really want to hear about how you would have magically gotten yourself and your kids out of there. I'm not stupid and I'm not weak, but after years and years of violence and lack of sleep I could barely see straight, let alone negotiate my way through a divorce from an unwilling husband!

Anyway, all that was to explain why I was not in the slightest bit bothered when the twat ran off with the skank. In fact, I almost had to nail my feet to the floor to stop myself jumping for joy when he finally came home after six weeks absence to solemnly let me know I was going to be receiving divorce papers! Yipee was all I could think!

You see, he had started going down to this cruddy bar in town - you know the kind where they all come crashing out through the window at closing time, and where the landlady keeps on serving regardless of how drunk the customers are.

Anyway, skank looks like a bad version of Amy, in the Big Bang Theory (although truth be told the actress that plays Amy is, in my opinion, very pretty in real life). (On that note, I must tell you about the time I waltzed in there one time, all dolled up to the nines, to have a look!!!! - skank and twat couldn't get out of there fast enough, but maybe more on that another time.)

You may wonder what the skank could possibly see in my scrawny, violent, alcoholic husband but since she earned a pittance working in France and my ex was on a good salary working in Switzerland I think I can see why she found him so amazingly attractive.  Anyway, long story short, they ended up shacking up together at her place, and it only took him six weeks to come home and "drop the divorce bombshell" on me (I repeat - yipee)!  What I do resent though is that my ex had the gall to introduce the skank to my kids before he had even told me about her and that I will never forgive him for, even if my kids were older. It was putting them in a dreadful position, but then hey, that's the kind of person he is.

Of course about three weeks after the "bombshell" he decided that "he didn't think we should throw away over 20 years of marriage" (i.e. skank ain't so great and can I come back? - the answer of course was not f*ç*çing likely). And it strikes me that the person who couldn't keep it in his pants was the one throwing away over 20 years of marriage, not me, but I digress! Well we got divorced after I served him with papers. It took about two years and in order to get him to finally sign I ended up taking on all the joint debt and some of his debts, plus buying him out of the home - which he tells people he "gave" me - yeah, to the tune of €300,000 worth of debt in my name, ya prat!

Immediately after they shacked up together but before the divorce was finalized was the worst period of my life, because although he was gone, he and the skank behaved like the drunken idiots they were and roughly every three weeks they would both throw a hissy fit and he would move back with his suitcases "cos it's still my house" - it almost broke me! Eventually the paperwork went through and I changed the locks. It still wasn't over though because he still thought we were "great friends" and actually bought a couple of cousins of his who were visiting from the States up to the house in my absence to show them round (eh, actually, it's now my house - seems we have a problem with boundaries here).  Anyway he and the skank were together about three years when guess what, the skank cheated on him with another guy and he was devastated! Makes me laugh now to be honest, this coming from a guy who was in Ghana for work and woke up with a prostitute in his bed but "don't worry, I was too drunk to do anything"!!!!! I kid you not. Oh the stories. Maybe one day I will write them all down and while for some it would seem unbelievable, for many more it would just go to show them that they are not alone living in this kind of hell.

Anyway, and back to the original narrative, I had met a chap in Stan's a few times and would always say "bonjour" and "au revoir". Turns out this guy is the skank's new boyfriend!!! He seems pleasant enough, but when I rolled up to Stan's the other night and saw her and the boyfriend sitting outside I didn't know what to do so I just stuck my nose in the air and ignored everyone. This has happened more than once and sometimes acquaintances of mine will be sitting with the skank but what do you do? I have no desire to say anything to that tart. Not easy though. Tellingly though, at one time she told Stan (who subsequently told me) that she "had to leave my ex or he would have ended up killing her"! I said to Stan, I really don't give a shit about her or her life, but as far as that goes, I can believe it 100%.

I'm not actually sure whether I should be writing some of this stuff down but I have read quite a few blogs written by women who have been cheated on and it is good to know I'm not alone. Actually some of those blogs are incredibly funny and I think therapeutic for others so keep up the good work ladies (although of course men aren't the only ones who cheat). In the end my alcoholic ex was diagnosed as bipolar, which may go some way to explaining some of his behaviour (his spending for example, and the fact that he could go three nights without sleep and hence I shouldn't be allowed to sleep either), but it neither explains nor excuses his violence. Having said that, while it is hell for those that are afflicted by this, I can tell you it is hell for those that have to live with it too!