Saturday, 25 February 2012
This post was submitted anonymously.
Let me start off by saying I have always despised cheaters, and believed there was no lower person than someone who cheated on their partner in a committed, loving relationship. I could never understand how people could cheat. What's a slimier, lowlier, more backstabbing move than cheating on the person you love?
Not only did I find it, I became it: cheating and not regretting it.
E and I met in the summer, and I fell madly in like with him; he's successful, gorgeous, talented, caring, brilliant, passionate, and damaged (like me). He's basically everything I ever wanted to find in a boy and I am so, so attracted to him. And of course, with my luck, he was attracted to me, but was not prepared for a relationship. He was hurt pretty badly by his previous girlfriends and is unwilling to trust or commit to anyone.
I felt his loneliness. In fact, a couple of months ago he outright asked me how long we would be friends, because he doesn't have many close friends to lean on. That really unsettled me. It bothered me for weeks. And so, being the masochistic trooper I am, I decided to remain friends with my crush, to be someone for him to lean on when he needed it most.
I have a boyfriend, I love him to death, but he's been seriously lacking in the attention and the sex. In addition, I settled for him instead of my crush to try to ward off some of my own loneliness. I am (was?) happy with him, but something has been missing.
E had gone over two years without any sexual contact with anyone, and was often depressed about it. He felt like his manliness was slipping away. I actually felt really terrible for him, and torn; I would've been heartbroken if he'd gotten involved with someone, but couldn't involve myself because of my relationship.
When I say I never, ever thought anything would happen between E and I, I really mean it. We've always held a sexual tension, but I didn't think he would ever do anything with me.
Well, on Sunday night, that changed.
I was going to visit him, and since I was exhausted from work and didn't want to walk back to my place at four a.m., E said it was fine if I stayed. We normally share a bed when I do. The sexual tension felt particularly strong that night; I couldn't explain why, but I had the most excruciating craving to kiss him. I've been dying to for the last six months. I would've been totally fine with just kissing him that night, but E was feeling particularly, err, "randy" (his words) as we lay in his bed.
One thing led to another, and by the next day, we'd accomplished everything but intercourse, with a fair amount of kissing. I didn't allow many, if any, thoughts of my boyfriend into my mind. I was totally engrossed in my time with E. He initiated most of it, and jokingly said it could be my belated birthday gift to him (which was Friday).
And that's pretty much what I've thought of it as, to be honest. Looking back on it, no, I don't regret it. It would destroy my boyfriend, and I don't like keeping things from people--especially people I love--but I see my betrayal as basically just doing my friend a favour, and keeping it our secret.
And yet, I don't truly see it as a betrayal, because although my body was involved (and my heart, to some extent), I don't see a future with E and I, because he has no feelings for me. I think he may see his actions as just having allowed himself to get closer with someone he trusted--one of his best friends.
What happened was selfish on both of our parts, and deserves no excuses to make it seem okay. I know that. But right now, I refuse to hurt my boyfriend over two sexually frustrated people letting off some steam. I do feel terrible about the sneaking and lying, and about sharing my body with someone else. But really, that's it.
I became what I hate, which may be the hardest part of all of this, yet I don't regret my indiscretion... yet. A part of me says I should feel much worse, and tell my boyfriend the truth. The other part tells me what I've told all of you: it was a one-time, not-a-huge-deal thing, better to be left in the shadows and moved past without involving anyone else.
I don't really know how I'll feel about future stories of cheating. Will I be more understanding? Will I hate them all the same? I couldn't tell you.
I can tell you this: shit happens. I know what I did was wrong on many levels, and I'm still dealing with it as the days move forward.
However, things just aren't always what they seem.
Have you ever had to deal with becoming what you hate? What sort of truth vs. lie scenarios have you had to deal with? What sort of things have you felt guilty about hiding from someone to keep them from getting hurt?