Lost In My Own Life

I've been married to Sarah for five years now. We moved to this small town for the medical job I landed shortly after we graduated med school. The clinic is quiet, but it's a good fit and allows me to spend more time with my patients than in the big city would. Sarah and I are open about our relationship. It started when she was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression after we moved here. She couldn't shake off her demons despite taking medication, so as a last resort she suggested that maybe finding pleasure elsewhere might help us cope better together without damaging each other's self-esteem. So, I agreed. It's not like it has been easy on me though. I've felt torn ever since. Part of me wonders if I should have said no and faced the challenge head-on as a couple. Another part admires her for being strong enough to ask for help. But mostly, I feel lost. Lost in my own life. We both still love each other deeply but there's this constant hum underneath everything now. A whisper of doubt that keeps me awake at nights and thinking about what we've done. It doesn't seem right somehow. One night recently, I ended up with someone who was very different from the person Sarah is. They were... more daring, less cautious. And while it's hard to admit, there was something freeing in that moment of release - a break from my usual self-restraint and carefulness. The contrast made me question our dynamic. How can I live with this feeling of betrayal? It wasn't just about the physical act but everything leading up to it. Did I betray Sarah's trust by not being strong enough, or am I simply human? I want to believe that we're both okay and moving forward together, but lately, every time I see her smile, there’s a part of me that wonders if she knows.