Ground Zero

He slept with her, legal yet still adolescent.  What twists in my belly when I lie awake at night is the thought of the months and months that led up to that mistake.  The worst lies are mostly true and he offered her a friendship that ended up being as friendly as the gaping smile of the wolf's maw.  And now, of course, she is unstable and problematic.  The layers of betrayal veil my attempts to move on, though it's been nearly a month.
He struggles with the psychological cocktail of Borderline Personality Disorder, has issues around intimacy and deception that come from the insidious childhood formula of genetic predisposition toward impulsivity, complex PTSD, and an insecure attachment with his mother, 15 years old and dependent upon her dysfunctional family of origin when she conceived him.  This doesn't excuse his choices.  And yet...
We float, in love.  Unprecedented intimacy that terrifies, electrifies, and enlightens us both.
Alternately, we cry, we curse, we grieve.
We do not sleep.
I'm not supposed to have this deep unconditional love for him.  I'm supposed to hate him, blame him, leave him.  I'm no doormat.  I'm making conscious choices, born of self-respect and fleshy strong boundaries that remind me of the intelligently selective walls of an animal cell.
It isn't the first time that he's betrayed a major agreement between us but it's definitely the worst.
I've sent an email, asking her to meet us in 2 days.  I want her to see my face when I ask her respectfully to leave him alone and move on.  I want to see his face when he tells her that there's no chance they'll be together.  I want to see her face- to track each micro-expression, record each twitch and shifting gaze for later analysis in the middle of my obsessed nights, tossing and turning with the looping image of him spreading her in front of him on her living room floor.
I want to record my process, to create artifacts of my path back to something resembling sanity and peace.
July 27, he slept with her.  We stayed awake and talked and cried and screamed and held each other for 3 days.  On the 3rd day, we rose and birthed a new relationship.  July 30: Ground Zero.  May the phoenix rise.