Love-Drama

I want to hear many people’s opinions. I’d like advice about a family problem—infidelity.
Before marriage, I caught my husband paying for sex. We talked and he said he wouldn’t do it again. Less than a month after we got married, I caught him again from his chat messages.
He insisted he was only chatting to ask the price and hadn’t made an appointment and nothing went beyond that. I forgave him and lived with him for almost two years.
In the second year, he became more addicted to gaming. We work in different provinces, but we come home to see each other every weekend. On normal days we talk for no more than 5 minutes—some days not even 1 minute. I had things I wanted to talk about and ask for advice, but we basically didn’t talk at all. When we met, we argued often.
During that period I started feeling tired and bored with everything. Then someone came into my life and I talked to that person. I could talk to him about different things. I could consult him about almost everything and talked to him about nearly every topic—until my husband found out.
We were apart for about a month, then got back together again. I apologized and explained everything to him, hoping he would adjust—stop neglecting me and pay more attention to me. But the more I opened up, the more we fought. He said that’s not a valid reason for a married person to do something like this. So we stopped bringing it up.
I’m not asking for his money, but I believe spouses should help each other. I’m ready to help him too.
After that, he didn’t reply to my messages at all, saying we should only talk when we meet, because he keeps thinking about me talking to someone else. After two or three weeks, he started replying normally again.
2. When we travel out of town, he pays most expenses, but I always transfer money back to him. I don’t want to take advantage of him.What kind of relationship is this? Is there any hope that he will build a future with me again? I don’t want to just live day by day. I want a complete family. I want to build everything with him. I will do everything and any way to make it better. Please advise me. I was wrong. Please don’t insult me or kick me while I’m down. I truly regret it and will never do it again.
Okay… I’m going to talk to you like a friend sitting at the end of the bed, saying it straight. Not flattering you, not piling on, but also not letting you drift into the fantasy of “if I just endure long enough, it will magically get better.”
Because right now it’s not magically getting better—it’s re-forming into a new relationship structure. And that new structure is exactly what you need to read clearly before you stake your entire future on it.
Two truths can exist at the same time in your story.
Both are true at once. Accepting both truths is not “making excuses.” It’s not getting lost.
Because what you’re experiencing now is not just “he’s still hurt.”
It’s a relationship sliding into the model of “together, but not building a life.”
To put it even more plainly: he still wants a “wife” in the sense of physical closeness, but he does not want a “life partner” he builds a future with.
And if you want a child, want a home, want to move to live together… you must stop using “he hugs me again” and “we have sex again” as proof that the future is back. Those are body signals, not future signals.
Before marriage, you caught him paying for sex. That’s not small. It’s not just about sex—it involves risk, secrecy, money, attitudes toward fidelity, and safety.
Then less than a month after marriage, you caught suspicious chats again (he claimed it was only asking prices). Whether that was true or not, the important part is this: your trust system was being hit from the beginning.
Then in year two, he became more addicted to gaming, you were long-distance by provinces, and your daily conversations were often under five minutes—sometimes under one minute. You had things to talk about, things to seek support on, but you couldn’t. When you met, you fought.
I’ll be blunt: loneliness inside a marriage is more dangerous than people admit. It creates hunger for being seen and heard. And when someone shows up who listens, it’s like dehydration meeting a cold soda—you know it’s not water, but it feels good in that moment.
So you talked to someone else, and your husband found out.
That’s where things broke.
But don’t reduce it to “it broke because you alone are bad.” It broke because this relationship already had problems with fidelity and connection, and the emotional neglect created a gap where a third person could enter.
That is not an excuse. It’s important data—because repair requires fixing both the betrayal and the relational system that left you emotionally starving.
You asked: “What is this relationship?”
Here’s the straight answer:
Right now it’s a relationship under probation.
Like a suspended sentence—except one person is acting as judge, prosecutor, and probation officer all at once.
But he cut life partnership: money, housework, shared future, marriage registration, children, shared assets.
That’s the signature of someone who still wants to be with you emotionally/physically, but refuses to restore trust and partnership at the life-structure level.
This is the key distinction. If you don’t separate these, you’ll keep sacrificing yourself hoping for a miracle.
That’s starting to look less like “I’m hurt” and more like “I’ll use leverage until you submit.”
This often looks like “revenge in a polite suit.”
Not revenge with screaming, but revenge through daily costs.
The danger is: if he stays in this mode too long, the relationship won’t heal—it will become a punishment-based marriage, where you pay forever and he keeps the power forever.
And here’s the part you need to hear:
If you keep “accepting anything” as penance, you might keep him near you…
but you won’t get a partner. You’ll get a supervisor of your guilt.
That is exhausting. And it eventually recreates loneliness—the same loneliness that made you vulnerable to emotional connection elsewhere.
You regret it. Good. But real accountability is not “accept lifelong punishment.”
You’ve done #1.
Now you need #2 and #3—otherwise you’ll keep living in a fog of “I’ll just endure.”
If he wants forgiveness, he can still be angry and hurt—but he will eventually cooperate in rebuilding.
I’m not calling him a villain. I’m saying: if he stays in “win mode,” this will never become a real team again.
If he refuses partnership but keeps you for closeness, your future goals—child, house, moving—will stall.
And for someone who wants a child and a stable household, “stalling” is not neutral. It’s losing time.
“I know I was wrong, and I take responsibility. I’m not arguing that.
But I feel like we’re in a relationship where I still have the role of a partner physically, yet I don’t have the role of a life teammate.
I need to know directly: do you still want to build a future with me?
If yes, we need a plan—money, chores, moving, marriage registration, and children.
If you’re not ready, I need clear conditions or a timeframe. I can’t live in indefinite waiting.”
Notice: you’re not threatening. You’re asking for clarity.
You’re paying two households alone. That’s not sustainable.
If he stays weekends and uses the space, he should contribute to shared costs. That’s not “building a house together.” That’s paying for the present.
Say it plainly:
“I’m not asking you to invest in a shared future if you’re not ready.
But shared living costs must be fair.
If they can’t be fair, we need to rethink how we’re living.”
He can refuse to register now—his right.
And you must say:
“I respect that you’re not ready. But I need a plan for moving and fertility.
If you want to move forward, tell me what timeframe and what steps.
If not, I need to make decisions for my life.”
Because for fertility, “waiting” is not a neutral choice.
You endured because you were wrong.
But your wrongdoing does not grant anyone the right to emotionally punish you forever.
Occasional flare-ups early on can happen.
But if sarcasm becomes the culture of the relationship, love dies slowly.
Set a boundary:
“I accept responsibility and I understand you’re hurt.
But if we continue, we can’t keep using this as a weapon in everyday conflicts.
We can talk about it in repair conversations, not as constant jabs.”
If he refuses, that signals he wants to keep the wound as power.
There is hope only if he returns to being a teammate in real-life structures, not just physical closeness.
If he keeps you close but refuses the future—registration, child planning, shared assets—then you are being kept in a holding pattern.
And the most important line for you:
Regret should not end in a life sentence of indefinite waiting.
A marriage that truly repairs requires shared responsibility, not “one person paying forever while the other person keeps power.”
💓💓💓
infidelity, emotional affair, marriage counseling, trust repair, betrayal trauma, accountability, boundary setting, power imbalance, financial control, emotional punishment, household labor inequality, marriage registration, relocation, infertility, fertility treatment, IUI, legal requirements, shared savings, future planning, reconciliation, resentment cycle, communication breakdown, gaming addiction, long-distance marriage, emotional neglect, rebuilding partnership, decision timeline
All entries on DramoCiety are for reflective and educational purposes only. They are not personal or therapeutic advice.
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