New Life, Ex-Wife Part 1. . .

I used to go by “anonymous”, then I grew into “anonymous no more” on a Betrayed Wives Club website. Now I am ME, Cyndie Bryant. How did it get to here?

On the last day of September 2016, I looked at my husband’s tablet and saw these words, “I Miss you Mark,” “I Miss you too Sharon,” “I Love you Mark,” “I love you too Sharon.”

Well, since my name is Cyndie I knew this wasn’t me! (Sarcasm -101). My husband of 20 years, had been having a three-year affair (oops, she wrote that in one of her messenger tests herself) with another women. Another ALSO married women. Three years ago, I caught him having an emotional affair, or on-line affair as he called it with this same women. He and she were texting each other, first on Facebooks messenger (she sent him a late night text that said, “I’m back”. I asked him where she had been!) He claimed it was simple flirting, he’d stop immediately. Then a few months later, there she was again, this time on the cell phone I bought him as a surprise birthday gift (it took me a few months to “catch on”). His son worked with him at the time and was teasing him about who he was texting so much….of course, he was told “Cyndie, who else”? Texting back and forth 1700 times in July, 2000 times in August…..and it went on and upwards until I caught them in January by seeing the phone bill (yes, I have the originals). He tried to lie, saying it was some male friend of his that liked to send porn back and forth. Well, it was a “friend” all right, her name was S Sinclair. I finally dragged it out of him and verified that it was her cell phone. Continue reading “New Life, Ex-Wife Part 1. . .”

 

I Broke Him. . .

Click To Read Our Full Story – 26 Years 

The past few days have been emotionally draining for me.  He just can’t seem to get over it.  Of course, I know this is all brand new to him. I came back after 10 years, with a child, after leaving him for dead in prison without even so much as a “goodbye” or an “I just can’t do this anymore”.  We don’t necessarily argue, but he vents, tells me how he feels and he’s broken down twice.  This makes me feel horrible, and I deserve to feel horrible for what I did to him.  I will never be able to fully understand what I put him through, just like he will never be able to understand what he put me through.  I was young, I was too naive, I couldn’t deal with his life in prison.  He tells me I didn’t love him, because if I loved him I could never do what I did to him.  I get it, I do. . .one would think I didn’t love him, but I will NOT allow anyone to tell me how I felt.  Because NO ONE knows how I felt.  No one knows how difficult it was for me to leave.  I have had my share of Karma, my ex broke me down. . .made me question everything about myself.  I had never felt so trapped in my life. . .it wasn’t just me, I had a family to consider.

I am in love with Jeff.  He has always been the one.  I thought about him constantly.  He literally haunted me.  I was going to post about it, the visions, when he was sitting by my side after my father died at the Cheeca Lodge, I actually have a full blog post about this, but even I knew it sounded crazy.  I sent one of my readers the blog post and although she didn’t come out and say it, I knew what she was thinking.  She told me, “you’re tired, you can edit it in the morning.”  But this is not how I write.  I do not edit, I do not change, what I feel is what I post.  I opted against sharing the “crazy post”, because even though it was so real for me, I didn’t think anyone else would be able to understand. . .Perhaps I am just crazy, I don’t know.  I just don’t know what to do at this point.   Continue reading “I Broke Him. . .”

 

26 Years. . .Told by Jeff. . .

“This was very difficult for him to write.  He really had an issue with writing about the point where I left him for dead.  Due to this, he said he couldn’t write everything he feels, at least not now because the pain is too fresh”.

15979082_10212462989116743_877449215_n  Jeff&Joy

The music was loud on the cellblock, the racket was so normal, that any seasoned inmate has the ability to tune out the noise.  At this point in my life, I had already been in prison for 5 years, so I had no issue reading my book during the regular chaos.  My cell was #17 out of 40 cells on the prison tier.  I was in the middle but even through all the loud music and noise, I heard a woman’s voice, “female walking on the company”.  In prison, when a woman is on the cell block, they will announce their presence so the men know to be dressed appropriately. Mrs. Scott was my inmate counselor and once every three months she called me into her office to check on my progress with my programs and such. When Mrs. Scott stopped in front of my cell it was a little bit of a shock. However, the message she was about to deliver was one I never saw coming.  This message would change my life.  After a quick greeting, Mrs. Scott told me a friend from my past had called her and wanted to come visit me.  I was excited and told Mrs. Scott to please tell her to come.  Mrs. Scott gave me such a scare because she said she wasn’t sure if she had kept her number, but god was on my side and she would make it up to see me. When she left from in front of my cell I laid back in my bed, my book forgotten and drifted back in time.  

The year was 1991 and I had been sent to Saint James out on Long Island to live with my Grandmother.  I had been getting into trouble in my old neighborhood, so they all decided I needed to go live with Grandma.  Smithtown High School was located in a middle to upper class area in Long Island, and I was coming from a different world.  When I walked into Smithtown High School I swear everyone was looking at me like I was from outer space.  I had my leather 8 ball jacket on and my Nike Air Max’s which matched my jacket.  I don’t think they had ever seen anything like me.  I had a cousin who went to the school and I knew a couple of the girls who had ridden horses at my family’s horse farm, but I didn’t have any friends yet.  I have always been a people person, so I started making friends quickly. Plus, I was already in the drug game so I became popular real fast.  Sadly, at this time I was more interested in making drug sales, instead of going to class.  The school had an area called the commons where kids could smoke cigarettes and hangout when they didn’t go to classes.  This was my area because it was the best place to make money in the school.  One day I was out in the commons area and a kid named Tom was introducing me to people and teaching me the ropes of the school.  He introduced me to a group on girls.  One of the girls was a cute brown-haired, brown-eyed girl.  She had her pinch-rolled pants on and a pull over and when I looked at her she gave me the cutest smile in the world.  This was the girl who was due to show-up on the visit the next day. . .

Here I was, sitting in my cell in a maximum security prison convicted of a drug related murder and I was waiting for the hours to pass so I could see the woman I first met as a little girl.  My life in prison was crazy because of the violence that was a part of my every day, but the mention of her name allowed me to travel back in time in my cell.  I drifted back to my youth and my memories of her.  There was always something different about her.  She had this innocence.  She was a good girl and I was a “bad boy”, but I could talk to her about anything.  I had respect for her because she wasn’t like the other girls in my life who I never respected.  She would come with me and the boys when we would go surfing and she would sit on the beach and watch us surf for hours, even as late as November when we needed dry suits because it was so cold.  She would come to the different Raves with me, we went everywhere.  She was a good girl though.  Never one who was into drugs and she wasn’t one of the other girls who were spreading their legs for everyone.  She had too much respect for herself to be like the other girls.  I was very protective over her and kept her close so she stayed innocent.  

I was a wild kid.  I was selling drugs and getting involved in all sorts of nonsense.  I called my princess one night and told her that me and a few of the boys were going on a “surfing trip”.  A few minutes later I got into a stolen car loaded with drugs and surfboards, which seemed like a good idea at the time.  Of course I left out all the illegal details when I called her.  She made me promise to stop by her house.  I promised her I would and this would be one promise I didn’t keep.  I ended up getting locked up in Florida and when I got out, she was the only person from home I was speaking to.  She made me Christmas cookies with her mom and sent them to me.  One of the cookies she “thinks” put a small crack on my back molar, but I told her I ate all of them (even though they were horrible) because she made them for me and they were delicious! 😉  I was still wild and I needed to come home.  I liked Florida, but I have always been a New York boy. My mother (my aunt who raised me) came down to Florida to bring me home, but it wasn’t going to be peaches and cream upon my return.  As usual, the law had questions for me. Sadly, this would be a recurring theme in my life until one day, a judge would match my age with the time of my sentence he would eventually hand me.  
Continue reading “26 Years. . .Told by Jeff. . .”

 

Left For Dead. . . (Part 3 – 26 Years)

This is part 3. Here is Part 1 & Part 2

I was on my way to work when I emptied the mailbox.  He sent me 2 letters.  I was running late and had to get into my office.  I called my best friend on the drive in and just panicked.  She asked me what they said, and I said I didn’t know, I hadn’t opened them yet!  I knew I was going to open the one with the oldest date stamp first, but I was beyond nervous.  Oh, how my phone was ringing that morning in my office!  I was the only one working and just wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet so I could read the letters.  My stomach was churning, my hands were sweating, I was beyond afraid. . .Once it finally slowed down, I opened the 1st letter. . .

 

Letter #1

You have caught me at a loss for words and this is rare.  I don’t know how I feel because you fucked me up.  You’re the only woman I have loved in my life.  You don’t need to tell me how long it has been, because I’ve thought about you every day.  It’s nice to hear you moved on, because I never did.  You’re right, you don’t have a good reason for what you did because I was head over heels in love with you and you were getting on with your life.  You left me for dead like everyone else in my life.  I can understand that you wanted a man who was home, but I have always had to ask myself what’s wrong with me that I’m the only person who cares about Jeff.  It’s easier to think of me the way you remember someone who has passed away.  You claimed I saved you at a time where you thought you couldn’t be saved.  It’s funny the way you repaid me.

I’m sorry to hear about your father.  I lost grandma and you know how I felt about her.  My life is fucked up because after you abandoned me, I went crazy and I really hoped I would get killed behind these walls.  I don’t know if this letter makes any kind of sense, because on one hand I love you more than you will ever know, but on the other hand I want to spit in your face because you were supposed to love me for the rest of my life.  I don’t know what I am supposed to say to you, you didn’t even care about me enough to pay me the respect of coming to tell me face to face.  I understand more than you think because I understand this life of mine is fucked up.  I want to hear from you, I would never shut you out because I’m not you, but you are not forgiven.  I don’t know what you want from me.  I have shit going on because I’m trying to set up my life because once I get out of prison, I’m not coming back.  I just finished writing a book, “from handguns to paint brushes; how art changed my life”.  I am really good at painting and drawing now.  I was in two different college programs, but I keep getting kicked out of these prisons.  Right now I am in ad-seg because I told them I was done and they sent the hit squad at me 3 different times and couldn’t get the job done.  I ended up hurting them each time. I am not about to have shit go down like when I was “hit” in Greenhaven.  I’m just tired of all of this shit, I want to go home.  I have now spent more time in prison than I have free.  I almost married a girl I hated just because I was tired of being alone.   Continue reading “Left For Dead. . . (Part 3 – 26 Years)”

 

My Escape From Prison. . . (Part Two – 26 Years)

Click To Read Part 1 “26 Years”

I felt alive for the first time in years.  Of course, the situation wasn’t ideal, to say the least.  My whole life was about to change.  I was now leaving my husband and the man I loved was facing so much time and didn’t have the possibility to even be considered for parole until 2019.  I was 26, this was almost 14 years ago. . .but at this moment in my life, I didn’t care about the time, all I cared about was how I was finally able to be with the man I loved.

It’s funny how he could make me happier from a prison cell than any other man had the ability to make me happy in the streets.  I had now loved him for over 12 years.  This is who I thought about every single night before I went to sleep and every single morning when I woke up.  He was always on my mind. . .

Although I was 26 years old, I was still very young and naïve.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I had no idea what being a prison girlfriend involved, I had no idea that this was going to end up being the most difficult time of my life.  I was in a state of bliss, I was so in love with Jeff and being this much in love, clouded my mind.  The stark reality of what I was going through didn’t exist in my world, not yet at least. .. Loving a man in prison is much different from having a relationship in the real world.  I believe it is more intimate in a way.  You don’t have the opportunity to take each other for granted, because you don’t have many opportunities to see and speak to one another.  Prison dictates when you can speak and see your loved one.  Due to this, you appreciate every second you get to spend together, every phone call, every letter.  Continue reading “My Escape From Prison. . . (Part Two – 26 Years)”

 

I Still Love Him. . .

I know the title of this posting has most of you wanting to smash your heads against the wall. . .maybe some of you are screaming at your computers, “she is just so damn stupid”, but. . .I speak the truth.  I love him, I don’t think I am in love with him but there is a piece of me who misses him.

Last week I lashed out at him via text message.  I was enraged and just pissed off.  I was having one of those days where everything was pissing me off.  My life has completely changed.  I went from being the SAHM who just was all about her family, all about her home, to the working mom who now never sees her family and is only home to sleep.  I have faced a lot of changes in the past year, some good and some bad.  But I have my bad days.  Fortunately, I find more of my days to be good, but. . .when the bad ones come, they hit me like a ton of bricks.

We still have a joint cell phone account, and curiosity does get the best of me.  A few weeks ago, I noticed the dirty Dundalk whore called him on his real phone.  Now granted, we have been over for months, but she still is not allowed to call him on his real phone.  He has a pre-paid phone he speaks to her on.  Why I have no idea, but. . .he still likes to deny her.  I don’t know why, we aren’t even together, but this is what he does.  He still feels the need to lie to me.  So he sent me a message about paying the phone bill and I went on to pay and saw her number in his call log.  It was only once, an incoming call for two minutes, but I went wild.  I text him and went the fuck off.   Continue reading “I Still Love Him. . .”

 

The Single Life. . .

I am single.  I know I have been single for quite some time now, but the thought of this, still sends shock-waves throughout my body.  I am single, there is no loner an us or a we, it is now just me.  I have been taken for such a long time, I don’t know how to be single.  I don’t know how to be “just me”.

I have previously blogged about “the year”, the one year I am giving my ex to get his life together, to get all of the cheating out of his system, and for me to just focus on my business and give him his time.  But realistically, I know this will never work.  I couldn’t trust him when he was home, when I saw him daily and was able to monitor what he was doing.  I can’t fathom taking him back in a year, welcoming him back into our home and just trusting him.  It will have been too long, there will have been too many women, too many loose ends, and just too much shit to deal with.  I already knew this would never work, but I still held on to hope.  Maybe, just maybe he will come home a changed man.  But see, my mind already knows.  So yes, to all of you who just couldn’t understand why I held on for so damn long, it is over.  I know it is over, or as over as it can be. . . But for it to be 100% over for me, I have to move on. . .by moving on, this involves speaking with another man and perhaps dating.  The thought still Continue reading “The Single Life. . .”

 

I Hate Him. . .

***Warning, I will probably drop the F-bomb and this whole post will probably be very abrasive***

He is a liar, he can’t tell the truth. . .I am so tired of his lies and his shit. . .

I fucking hate him.  When I tell you I hate him, I fucking hate him.  I just can’t fucking stand him.  I do not want to deal with him anymore.  I am not answering his calls, and he will be lucky if I let him speak to his son.  I know this is not right, but right now, I don’t give a shit.  If my son requests to speak with him, I will let him call him. . .but I am not going to mention anything.  When he calls, he is getting the ignore button.  To be honest, he is lucky I don’t block his sorry ass.

His priorities are completely out of whack, and I am so tired of dealing with his selfish choices, decisions and actions. I am tired.  Just done.

We had a big blow up the other day and I lost it.  I often wonder what planet this man lives on. He is delusional.  He actually thinks he is a good person.  This is very scary to me.  He is not a good person.   Continue reading “I Hate Him. . .”

 

Escape. . .

I have thrown myself into work.  This is how I escape. . .escape from my problems, escape from the reality that this is now my life. . .For the past few weeks I have averaged around 95 hours per week in my office.  I am busy, very busy, too busy to worry about whatever it is he may be doing.  I am focused on my business and my financial future.  I am now a single mother.  I have been left with all of the responsibilities.  I have to be the one to make sure our bills are paid and we are ok.  He is no longer responsible due to him no longer residing in our home.  Or at least this is the way he sees it. . . Everything is now all on me.   Thankfully, I have been very fortunate.  My business started booming immediately.  Due to this, I am very overwhelmed.  I am trying to juggle being a mom and a business owner, but am finding this very difficult.  I know in the long run this will all be worth it, but for now, I am stressed.  At first, I was angry with him, I was so damn angry. . . but, I am no longer angry.  If it wasn’t for him being so selfish, if it wasn’t for him being such a dirty cheater, if it wasn’t for him being a man who cared about himself more than his family, I wouldn’t have had this amazing sense of independence.  I no longer need him.  For the past year or so, I needed him.  He was the breadwinner, he was the sole supporter of our family.  I no longer contributed financially after selling the website.  All the responsibility was on him.  To be honest, this was the only time in 11 years I did get to step back and take a breath.  I have always worked.  But I was able to stay at home for a year and it was wonderful.  I sometimes wonder if the reason everything went south was due to his inability to handle the responsibility of solely caring for his family.  I guess I will never know.  This would require honesty from him, and honesty is such a foreign concept to my ex. . .but my gut tells me yes and my gut is usually always right.  I truly believe he just couldn’t handle the responsibility. Continue reading “Escape. . .”

 

Anger & Resentment. . .

I guess he has always been a loser, but now I finally see. . .The rose-colored glasses I have worn for years, have been removed.  The dream world I have lived in, has finally begun to dissipate.  Reality has hit me like a ton of bricks, and I just continue to wonder how such a smart girl, could have been so damn stupid.

I thought he adored his family, adored his little boy.  I thought wrong.  I know he loves him, but he only loves him in the only way he is capable of loving.  He is selfish to the core and I just can’t fucking stand him.  I know many of you will probably despise me for feeling this, but at this current moment. . .at 12:17am, July 4th 2016, I am thinking of how he is worth more to me dead than alive. . .I hate him.  I want him to suffer.  I want to destroy him.  I can’t deal with him, but I have to!  There is NO POSSIBLE way to make a clean break.  I have to speak to him, I have to see him. . .there is no way to avoid this.

I asked him Friday to take my younger son this weekend.  Not overnight, but Saturday and Sunday.  His nanny is away for the holiday weekend and I was stuck.  This idiot had the audacity to say Continue reading “Anger & Resentment. . .”