Why do I still love him when I have been betrayed? Why can’t I turn off my love for him like a tap? Why does thinking of him make me miss him instead of wanting to spit on his face? Why is my heart not obeying my mind?

I close my eyes and all I see are both of them on the bed, doing the same things him and I did. It kills me. I wish to wipe this tape off my mind’s eye but I can’t. All I can think about is how his hands and mouth have explored her body and how her hands have explored his body too.

The closest thing we could have shared as a couple, is now shared with someone else. Yes, it’s just sex. And sure, he doesn’t love her. But it was sacred to me. It’s the secret world we shared where we bare our fantasies and indulge in sweet pleasure with no fear of judgment. It was our safe space, my safe space. It was the space where I could experiment freely and feel sexy in my own skin when I had issues with my self-esteem.

All the moves he used on her make me feel like she’s now privy to our sacred space. She knows what I like through him. She knows how my insides would have felt when he was making love to me. She knows what he likes, how he looks like in the moment and got a piece of his intimacy through post-sex cuddles.

He delivered all my preferences and vulnerabilities on a platter to her the moment he touched her a certain way. I feel naked, so exposed to a woman I absolutely despise. What used to be my source of confidence is now violated, because he’s sexually satiated through none of my doing. His hands are tainted. They are no longer mine. The same hands that held me, loved me, pleasured me and wore our wedding ring can no longer be trusted.

Why did he do that? Why did he have to hurt me and destroy our sacred world? Why? Why? Why? I wanted him. I always wanted him and wanted to be touched. I was always eager for intimacy. Why wasn’t my body thrilling enough? Her body is nothing compared to mine, yet he found it a wonderland.

I just…. don’t know anything anymore.

How do I trust anything now?