I thought affairs were a piece of cake — until I had one.
About 10 years ago, I made the painful and difficult decision to leave my marriage. I'd been married to a pastor and lived in the small town where he grew up. Everyone loved him — he was warm, funny, and well-connected in the community. But
at home, when no one else was watching, he was abusive. Over the years, I'd diminished from a warm, outgoing, neon-bright person to a dull, obedient, empty shell, isolated from the all the people and activities I used to love. My soul had withered and dried to the point where I had no enthusiasm for life, no confidence, no joy.



I needed to find a way to save myself.

When you're starving, and feeling lightheaded and weak from hunger, you find yourself willing to eat darn near anything just to keep yourself alive. At that point, even the unhealthiest food will sustain you, at least temporarily.

Once I came to the realization that my marriage was abusive and began plotting my escape, I started spending more time at social functions and networking with other professionals, both in-person and online. Over time, some of these virtual connections became my strongest support system and my closest friends. This was healthy. I needed these friends badly. These new connections were nourishing for my starving, lonely soul, feeding me encouragement and lending sympathetic shoulders when I needed them. But, just like the obligatory dessert section of any buffet, there were some things online that simply weren't good for me.

When you've been starving, you don't always make the wisest choices. You stuff your face with what's in front of you. So I selected the equivalent of Death by Chocolate Devil's Food Cake: a married man.
Sometimes, cake is not the answer.


I met him through a professional networking chat room. Our conversations were perfectly innocent at first. We'd share jokes and play one-liners off each other, matching sarcastic barb with cutting wit. Occasionally, he'd message me privately with a humorous aside. How could I not respond? He was witty, he was smart, and we were just being friendly, after all.

Looking back, I'm not entirely sure where things changed. It was much like that overused analogy about how to boil a frog: I had been a very sheltered amphibian who had never seen a pot or a stove before. I was naive, inexperienced, and vulnerable, and desperate for approval and affection.

Slowly, gradually, our private messages became more personal and evolved into lengthier, more frequent emails and text messages. Casual conversation transformed into lighthearted flirtation, which morphed into loaded innuendo.

After a few months of this, we found ourselves planning to attend the same professional convention in a few weeks. And somewhere along the way, we were no longer just joking around. This was real. Eagerly, we made plans to meet, and it became very clear that I was about to abandon the salad bar and dive headfirst into the hot-fudge-and-whipped-cream section of the social buffet.

I started to plan my trip, my first time >>>>complete story here>>>>http://www.hollups.com/2016/06/i-cheated-i-left-my-abusive-pastor.html?m=1#

just like Nigeria film we no how it we end forget about the blog

Calm down!
First of all u need to know its not something new!
Secondly, u one fucking helluva biatch
Thirdly ,I didn't read tru......

Another best seller novel...!