Hi again
Thank you to all that read my first post. Some seemed to think I was brave with my letter. I was scarred and desperate. We didn't have the chance, and I made sure of it, to talk the rest of the day at work. That evening as we set in the parking lot at Costco she asked what was going on. I tried to talk but could not get the words out. I ended up telling her I was sorry and did not know if I would ever be able to talk about it. I also said I would go see a counselor about it. The next day I contacted the EAP program at work that offers all kinds of professional assistants. When they ask why I needed a counselor (so I went to the right one) I told them it was for depression. The next day I met "Mary". I was up front and frank about my whole life. To be able to share was such a wonderful thing, too bad that the reason that brought me there overruled it. She had me read her the letter. After so long I don't remember all the details. I did tell her I felt I needed to tell my wife. Two day latter I bought my wife. Mary and I spoke a little and I brought my wife in. Again I could not talk and broke down in tears. After a while she had my wife wait outside for me. I saw Mary twice a week, then once a week then once a month. My wife never ask what we discussed just if it was helping me. Mary said she did not understand how the two of us could sit in a livingroom with an elephant and never see or talk about it. Once about two months in my wife asked if I was ready to talk about it and I told her I did not think I ever would. I would go to "my meeting" on nights that my wife was not home so that it did not effect her. During this time Mary said I needed to stop dressing if I was not going to be up front. So as so many times in the past I purged my wardrobe. So sad as there were things I cannot replace. That lasted a few months before I started again. After over two years and my wife not asking me any questions I told Mary she did her job and I did not need to come back. The very next day my wife asked I'd I was still seeing her. I told her no and we have never discussed it again. The stress for at least the first year or so was terrible. I never knew and still don't know when and if she will bring it up. Two times she should of and could of were she got a bug to clean out the garage and found a bunch of panties. I know this because she mentioned it kind of casual while working right nest to my daughter. I just hum and went about my business. The second time I am not sure, but we were sitting on the couch, I had my legs curled up under me reading while she watch TV. As I shifted my shirt lofted on back and I know my orange panties showed over to top of my pants. She gave me a look and I thought I was dead. Nothing was ever said. It's hard living with an elephant. Someday we may start eaten it one bite at a time and I may need some help at that point. For now I diet and hide.

This has worked for me so far and it only does because of my wife. Thanks for reading
Brenda