Some of you might have, at one point, sat at home crying over a significant other who cheated on you. You wonder how they could hurt you, betray you like that. How the HELL they could step out on you with someone else?? And, even worse, who in god's name is the horrific, tarty slut who made, no... FORCED (obviously)... your angel of a boyfriend cheat on you?
Well – that would be me.
Guys love to cheat on their girlfriends with me. It's happened several times. I'm not happy about it, nor am I proud. In fact, I'm pissed about it. Most of the time I had no idea the guy was dating someone else; once I did, I put a stop to the chicanery. Recently, a good friend decided to try to cheat with me and, honestly, I was shocked. I was also about to puke my face off from an over-indulgence of whiskey, and I can't imagine how I was attractive to anyone at all by that point. When I unhooked his face from mine, I reminded him of his girlfriend and that he would feel like shit in the morning for doing this. When I yanked his face off mine a second time (ugh), I told him that he was making me feel like shit. That I would wake up the next morning not only knowing that I hurt some other chick that I didn't even know, let alone have a vendetta against. And, on top of it, I would wake up just as alone as the night before. The moment, however passionate one thought it to be, would be (and was) entirely empty. And I was angry that I found myself in this bullshit position yet again.
Is it because I'm a hot-blooded sex vixen who dresses to kill and sleeps with anything that moves? Well, I do dress to kill (several credit card companies can vouch for that), but I'm not so sure about the rest. I love sports and am a bit of a tomboy (who wears high heels and tight jeans). But I've also been celibate for over a year (hi mom!) and have no intention of breaking that streak any time soon. I haven't been in a legit relationship since 2007 when I had my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped into a million shattered pieces. I'm not really looking for anything, serious or otherwise, either. Shit, I even only made out ONCE in the past year and it was because 1) it was my birthday and 2) my friend's last night in town, so it was more of a celebratory raping of his face. So what is it about me that screams "Pick HER!"? Is it because I'm the guy's gal, the "safe" bet, who won't go nuts and Google your chick, call her and tell her? Is it because I seem emotionally unattached to everything? Is it because you think that just because I can take a joke and all of your bullshit and still be your friend that I have no feelings? I'm fucking tough but no ice queen and hate feeling like I've been taken advantage of. And basically, that's what you're doing when you cheat with someone. You disregard not only your significant other's feelings, but those of the other person, to the guilt you place upon them and the hurt you assign to the one you supposedly "love." It's bullshit.
How do I know this? Because I've also cheated. Hey – I never claimed to be an angel, but I learn from my mistakes. I remember clearly the moment it happened... well, I was wasted, so not entirely clearly. Afterward, I cried my eyes out for hours. The transgression was merely a drunken kiss (in the middle of Red Square with snow falling softly... fuck, it was romantic for a Russia nerd!) but I was sick about it for weeks. I never told my boyfriend about it because it fundamentally changed the way I felt about our relationship; I knew that I loved him and only him and that I would never, EVER act that way again (and I didn't, so there). I also knew that if he stepped out on me, I would be absolutely devastated (tangentially, he might have just found out now, which is weird because wow, he reads my blog and, well, sorry, but he got the last laugh in our relationship and he knows what I mean by that, so don't feel too bad for him because karma worked things out). It was a moment of incredibly poor judgment (being drunk does not negate that fact), but I also learned something: I didn't want to be one of "those people" who cheated. Ever.
Somehow that feeling doesn't translate to some people. Some say it takes two to cheat, but it really only takes one insanely selfish person who brings another person into their crime. It's like making someone pick you up from the bank robbery without telling them they're driving the getaway car. Of course, everyone feels better if there's a third party to blame – then there's a torrid shrew who led the otherwise devoted man astray from monogamy (evil wench!). That's just not true. It takes one person to make the decision to break from monogamy, period. And I don't want to be a part of other people's bad decisions.