I know that both sides of Richard's conscience waged war during his time with Jaymie. I would guess most cheating spouses have at least a twinge of a guilty conscience in the midst of all the lies and deceit. I actually hope to hell most betrayers are racked with guilt!
During my ride home that day, both entities, the angelic and the demonic, were jockeying for my consideration. Having just been at church, I tried to place a big bet on the angel to come in first. Even though I knew her to be a long shot, I was rooting for her!
It's was battle of conscience, a battle of the soul. In such conflicts, there is rarely a draw.
By the next day, one side was more than able to out pace the other.
Richard was quite the nervous Nellie by the time I got home. He had been anticipating a possible call from local law enforcement alerting him to my arrest for creating a public disturbance...or worse. I imagine he had girded his loins for a call like that for the entire first year after DDay. When I walked in the house he looked at me, wide eyed, hoping I would tell him I had changed my mind and gone out for a Sunday breakfast instead of Sunday service.
Please don't ask me what I told him or what transpired when I got home because I can't tell you. Maybe I told him nothing happened because the good and pure side of my conscience enveloped me in guilt. Maybe I told him about the warm welcome I received from the parishioners of the First Baptist church and their gracious invite to attend group counseling. Maybe I said something like, "Get the fuck away from me. I can't stand the sight of you right now." Any of those scenarios seem feasible. Feel free to pick the synopsis of my return that suits you or make up one of your own.
It's easier to confirm what I did the next day, August 15th, 2011 due to the email trail. In a past email exchange in January, Daddy James had suggested (actually he demanded which you all know makes me do the EXACT opposite!) that I take my "anger, bitterness and attention elsewhere."
I lost my bet. The winner of yesterday's race was not the long shot. I was currently being inspired by the malevolent side of my inner psyche, so I felt like Daddy James would love knowing I took his suggestion. (Can you sense the heavy sarcasm and ill intent?? I was fully clothed in both.)
I sent him this:
Jim: I took your advice. I took my anger, my bitterness and my deep sadness and regret somewhere else. You told me about how you used to counsel people at your church in Lemon Grove. So, I went last Sunday. They are wonderful. I met Pastor Jeff and his wife, Crystal, a lovely woman named Madeline and another gentleman, Bill S****. What a dear old guy.
Anyway, they said I should come to something called "Tag" team and share what troubles me. I intend to do just that.
I've tried to find other outlets and some bring temporary relief, but nothing gets the images and words out of my head. Jaymie didn't help me. Richard can't. But, you told me the first day I called you about Jaymie & Richard. You told me about the church. Should have listened closer back then, but better late than never. I'm going to print all the emails, take them to a meeting and be DONE with them! It already feels better knowing I will never have to look at them again. Maybe in time the images in my head will fade, but I'm realistic. Tiny steps and all that.
So, thank you. Maybe I'll see you there sometime.
Sent it to Jaymie and Richard, too. Wouldn't want them to be unaware of my intentions to seek salvation. Then, motivated to toss out a wider net by that same evil muse whispering in my ear, I decided not to leave out poor Geek Boy Kevin. When I forwarded him the above email, I prefaced the words with this:
Kevin: Thought I'd keep you in the loop.
Talk about perfect. I might actually get some support from people that KNOW Jim, Karen & Jaymie. (BTW...Karen is Jaymie's Mom)
The world is a strange place. Didn't you tell me that?
My angel guide had taken a hiatus. She was totally AWOL. Only the day before I had passionately prayed for anger and vengeful thoughts to be taken from me. I begged God to soften my heart, to help me find constructive ways to stop the torment. In 24 hours I stopped listening to my God fearing conscience and turned my ear to the Vengeful Devil loudly advising me to, "Make Jaymie pay. Make her hurt like you do. She wouldn't help you. She won't even talk to you! Tell the world what she did to you. Make her pay."