Why I cheated on my husband

My husband and I live in the valley of ash, you know, the place where people dump their trash into. Every day I wake up and cannot believe that this is New York. My husband, George Wilson, owns a run-down auto shop to support our living.  Life was great in the first few years after we got married, but more and more I realized that he only takes me as his possession and doesn't care about my feeling at all. I am tired of this place and I want to have some true fun. When I first met Tom, I wish he would get me out of this ashy, disgusting place because it is so boring and lifeless in here. I kept telling myself that you can't live forever, you can't live forever, and I might never get out of here if I refused him. I wish I met Tom earlier because he is the source of my joy. Oh did we had fun when we went downtown. We hooked up and drank and just threw things at each other, not knowing where we are and what will happen. I can never gain this happiness with my husband.

I know I was being stupid because he is married and his wife is Catholic, but he was the one who started it, right? And I cannot be clearer in my mind that he also treats me nothing than an object to satisfy his desire. It is easier to approach me because of his relationship with my husband, but I know that once he finds someone else better than me, I would never see him again.