Cancer of the Marriage
This is part five of my story of recovering from my wife’s affair and rebuilding our marriage. If you haven’t already, please start at the beginning with part one.
The analogy of an affair in a marriage to a cancer in the body seems extraordinarily apt to me. As an example of how the cancer grows, the night I became suspicious, my wife could tell something was wrong with me, but she couldn’t push too hard for an answer when I was reluctant to talk, out of fear that I would start asking her questions. Her apparent emotional ambivalence in turn causes resentment in me, feelings of guilt in her, and greater distance between us. The cancer grows.
So my wife had an affair, but at least we caught it early.
Our marriage before her affair was not horrible at all. To stick with the cancer analogy, we were in pretty good shape, but there were risk factors under the surface that we weren’t addressing and trying to fix. We weren’t engaged in a good cancer-prevention regimen in our marriage.
I had been feeling the distance grow between us for a while. I had mentioned it to her several times. I had asked her to show more affection towards me, not realizing there could be root causes of that lack of obvious affection that we were ignoring. She could have used any of those times I mentioned the lack of affection to talk to me about why she wasn’t feeling that affection, but she didn’t. I guess that’s the toughest part about when that distance starts to build — the further apart you get, it takes more and more effort to reconnect.

I was clearly in a different place than her after our cruise. I was optimistic back then, but she must not have felt the same way. I thought we had started to reconnect on the cruise. We slid down waterfalls. Monkeys climbed on our heads. We ate wonderful meals. We talked, we laughed. We walked around beautiful port cities and shared fantastic days together. We sat on our balcony and I rubbed her shoulders or legs as we looked out at the ocean.
I thought that cruise — those seven days together, just the two of us — was the beginning of a renaissance in our relationship. Not the solution itself, but the first steps toward it. I was starting to reach out to her again, and even though I couldn’t tell whether she was reaching out as much as I was, I was hopeful that would come.
I guess she was not in that same place. I can’t blame her for that, but I do wish she’d sat me down and talked to me about it. I think we could have eventually gotten to where we are now without the pain. But I could have done more to reach out, too, for sure. I realize now that just listening more would have helped a lot.






