My GF is cheating on me, I found the freshly used condom in the trash. Much pain and misery ensues.

We had been kind of bickering at each other yesterday morning. I was going to go over to her place in the afternoon. She was going shopping and I had some errands to run so I went out to try to get my stuff done so I'd be able to go over there as soon as she was back. But, she got back and hour later than she said she was going to and I had already gone home. I wasn't going to go over then, and it really stung that she didn't seem to care. Maybe an hour or so later, I decided to go over. I had been kind of childish before and I thought I would go see her. I was having a rough day, and I really needed the comfort of seeing her, and I wanted to apologize for not coming over earlier.

The entire drive across town, all I could think about was what I might find when I got there. The guy she went snowshoeing with was someone she had started hanging out with a lot lately. First he was going to show her around his gym because she wanted to start working out but was afraid to go in by herself and not know what she was doing. They never made it to the gym. They had lunch or coffee or something, and then a day later or something she mentioned that he had come over there. To the apartment she had been madly cleaning for the last week.

I had been having some trust issues with her for a couple of months. She had asked me how I would feel if we had an open relationship because she wanted to try things with other people. I was the only one she had ever had sex with, so I certainly understand that desire, but it just wasn't something I knew I could handle. She wanted to be able to go other guys, with no strings attached, just to see what it was like. She wanted a threesome with two guys. That was a big fantasy for her. I was working on adjusting my mindset. I wanted to be supportive and open to new things. I just needed to get the jealousy under control. And I told her that. It was something I was trying to learn to accept. I didn't want to keep her from having those experiences. I am so much older than she is, I've had some experience with other people. I didn't want to deprive her of that experience, but I needed some time to adjust to the idea.

I parked on the street near her apartment. I knocked lightly on the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. There is a keypad to unlock the door, so I would have been able to just let myself in as long as she didn't have the chain on. But she didn't have the chain on. She put it on as soon as she realized it was me. She said "", and then I thought I heard whispers. But I didn't want that to be true, so I didn't really hear them. For a few minutes she kept telling me to go away. At first, there was terror, and fear, in her voice. She knew she had been caught. But, she quickly came up with a story that she was mad at me, and was sure that I had just come over there to fight with her about something. She just said she didn't want to talk to me.

I finally gave up. I walked back to my car and just started balling. I started to text her. She just kept saying that she didn't want to see me. And suddenly she asked where I was. I told her I was in my car, and she told me to come in. She had figured out a way to sneak him out. There was a second door in her apartment that went to the basement and the laundry, but there was an exit to the outside that way too. I went in and she was standing there in the living room. I was glad she had finally let me in, but I was still looking around at everything suspiciously. The things she usually kept sitting in front of the basement door where not quite in their usual place. But I didn't want to see it. I took off my shoes and my coat, and I walked over to her and embraced her. I was so madly in love with her, I was just blind to what was going on around me.

She started telling me something about the cat or something, and led me into the kitchen. There was no reason to go in there. Afterwards, of course, I realized she was giving him time to escape where I wouldn't see him through the window.

She invited me in her room. We usually spend our time there cuddled up in bed. The pillows were arranged, one next to the other. I could see, what I later realized was panic in her face when she saw the stains of her own wetness on the sheets. I saw them. But I still didn't see them. We talked and cried and went on about how hard it was for us, that we couldn't be together as much as we wanted. How she felt like she was giving up her dreams for me. She didn't apply for some summer internships out of state, she didn't apply to any other colleges. And in there somewhere, left unsaid, but still heard, that she was giving up on a host of sexual experiences that she longed to have. That she wasn't really giving up afterall.

I laid there in bed with her. It makes my skin crawl, and I want to vomit. But we laid there and talked and cried. She climbed over me to grab a kleenex. Either she realized that the used condom or wrapper was still sitting on the top of the garbage can, or maybe had just been sitting on the bedside table. It did strike me as odd that she didn't just ask me to hand the tissues to her. But as she straddled me, I declined to care. We talked and it seemed we had worked things out. Things had been rocky for us for months, partly because I hadn't really trusted her for some time. But I had written it all off to my depression and my anxiety. I just called those thoughts my demons.

She had to go to work, so she got ready. She stood there in front of me and changed her shirt. She had dressed in a hurry obviously so she was only wearing a tank top and a pair of sweats with nothing underneath. She snuck around the corner to pull off her pants and put some underwear on. I don't know if she didn't want me to see that she wasn't wearing any, or what exactly she was hiding from me then. That wasn't a usual thing for her to do.

When she was ready, I was going to give her a lift to work. She always just walked. It wasn't far. I kissed her. I kept my lips on hers and I could feel her tense. I kissed her again, but now she had lowered her head to avoid it somewhat. I took her to work. She was texted furiously as we drove. I can only assume to him. To fill him in on what happened after he left. Maybe to tell him that I hadn't suspected anything. But, I suspected everything. I pulled away from the parking lot and went straight back to her apartment. I had bought her a few things on my errands earlier that day and I had forgotten to give them to her. I wanted to look around. I wanted to find nothing so desperately. But, I knew exactly what I was looking for. I looked the the kitchen garbage can first. The least likely place, but I still was hoping I would find anything. I had to check the small can in the bedroom. I picked the two wadded tissues off the top and saw the gold wrapper. It still didn't convince me. Maybe she was just playing around with one. She did that from time to time. Put one on a toy or something. I reached in and pulled it out. A condom, heavy and full of . At that moment, I died.

I sent her a text, to tell her that I had gone back into her apartment, that I had looked in the trash. I didn't expect her to get it unless she had a break in a few hours, or 6 hours later at the end of her shift. But my phone notifies me when she sees my texts. I sent three messages to her. Each one was seen, with no reply. Eventually she write back something about that she was sorry. Then that she had left work, that she had thrown up. She asked for some confirmation that I wasn't going to hurt myself. I've attempted it, although feebly once before. She tried to call, and I rejected it.

The last I heard was text a few hours later. Simply, "Be well,...". The ellipsis was replaced by her pet name for me. I have no one I can talk to about any of this. I didn't sleep much last night. I woke up thinking it was much later, but I had only managed to stay asleep for an hour. I wrote her a rather lengthy email. I needed to explain everything I saw. How much I had wanted it to be simply my demons. How angry and hurt I am. I needed her to understand what she did. She never gave me any words of remorse. The only sorry, was not for what she had done, but that she hadn't done a better job of keeping it from me. I am lost. directionless, floating in an abyss. I am an empty shell. I feel completely devoid of all life. I am already dead. My body just has not caught up to this fact yet. I don't want to die. I want to turn it off. The worst part is that I could forgive her. I love her. I'm really far less hurt that I feel I should be. But I could never trust her again. * * Update: I want to thank all of you for all of your kind words. You should know that we have split up. Our relationship had been rocky for several months. It was bound to end. I just wouldn't let it go. I'm so much older than her, and she has a lot of growing up to do. She's not ready for me yet. I went to work today. I made someone come with me on my route. I couldn't be alone. I was afraid I'd steer myself into an oncoming truck. I've had the last hour at home by myself. We talked a little this morning. I want to be her friend, even though she did this horrible thing to me. I've been where she is today. Hell, I've been where I am now before. More than once. I sure know how to pick them. (All the more reason that it is so hard not to blame myself though. Four times I've been through this.) Part of me still cares and wants to help her figure it out without having to go through the decade of pain and misery that I experienced trying to figure out life for myself. I need some time away. A little time to heal. A little time to detach. I don't think that's ever really going to work though. Keep reading and you'll find out what I just found out. I asked her about STD's just now. She's dancing around the question a little. That's not very promising. Her and I hadn't done anything before she hooked up with this guy, but she apparently blew some other guy a few weeks ago. I'll have to go get tested then. I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm home by myself now. I stayed at work just hanging around for several hours so I didn't have to come home and be alone. I rescheduled a job interview I had tomorrow so I could finally have a real, full-time job after being unemployed or under-employed for several months.

I want to kill myself.