Looking for a place to fall apart

My wife is at the threshold of the door, ready to leave me at any moment because of my flaws, faults and mistakes. I spoke with or exchanged brief text messages with another girl on half a dozen occasions over a three year period. I was not completely truthful with my wife on April 12, 2010 when a text reading something like "I am now a certified trainer" or something to that effect blipped onto my cell phone. There was nothing to tell other than I had nagging doubts about my wife's fidelity over the course of our marriage due to circumstance and direct evidence. I had kept that infrequent line of communication open with this other person because I wanted to know if she knew anything, or had heard anything about my fears. That this "other person" was the former wife of my wife's ex-husband lends nothing but a Jerry Springer quality to the story.

My wife wants to know if anything happened between us. It did not and will never. There is no connection except a shared previous betrayal borne from the two ex-spouses. Nothing more. Were we friends? No, not even that. Confidantes? No, nothing except potential voices or words of warning sent through the air that might help the other avoid further despair. Devastation is a better word. My first wife cheated on me with at least two men that I know about. That there were others would not surprise me. I sought revenge then because I had no further love for my first wife. Amber is very different; my love for her is visceral and deep and bonded to my heart. I cannot imagine life without her, but explicit e-mail exchanges with her ex and friendships with young, attractive, single men at her job continue to whisper doubts to me, though their intensity lessens over time.

If this is indeed the beginning of another end for me, I cannot remain where I am. Short sales, jumping off the "safe" ship of this job, and everything up for bid on Craigslist before my escape back to the west. Somewhere on the coast to lose myself in the mist of the Pacific. Reno would never fill my windshield ever again. This dry, grim place will only drift through my mind in the past tense in all of my future thoughts. Reality may make an attempt to moderate such a fierce turn of the wheel as I am a dad to a wonderful and challenging boy of nearly 11 years. He may want to stay here for friends and familiarity...or Texas may be a better option for him at that point, which is a place I say now that I cannot live. My best hope for that scenario is that he would go along with me to my lonely place and slide into a new groove with new friends and a completely changed backdrop for life.

Is the end of this winding road a brick wall? I care virtually nothing for the things we have gathered. I need only enough income for food, clothing and a place to fall apart.