Last night he came to see me. He asked if he could visit, just to talk. For some reason, I said yes. I guess I wanted to hear that he still cared. I was hoping to see that there was still a part of him that wanted to try, that realized the mistake he was making in reconciling with a woman who had been unfaithful; used and hurt him. I wanted him to see that, even though my trust in him was destroyed, I still cared for him. I still wanted him to be happy; wanted to make he happy.

I got all of that, and more.

He looked into my eyes, unblinking, for minutes. I had never just stared at someone for so long without saying anything. I felt like I was seeing into a different part of him. I put an end to it, saying, “I wish I knew what you were thinking.”

His response was just, “Wow.”

He seemed so unsure about his ex. He said so many times, “I don’t even know what I want with her.” I asked when he was seeing her again. He said he didn’t know. I pressed again later, he said maybe over this weekend. I asked if they were planning a romantic tryst to consummate their little affair. He said he was doing no such thing.

I told him, “I want you to act as if she were right here…are these things he would say if she were right here? That you still care for me, that you aren’t sure about your feelings for her? That you aren’t just busting at the seams to go see her again?”

“Yes, she knows all that.”

He said he’d fucked up with me. He took me out for dinner, held me. He cried.

I felt comforted, and although I was highly skeptical, I was ready to open myself up to the possibility of letting him into my life once he had figured this all out. He would have had to earn my trust again. But, I thought, it would not be impossible.