A Cheating Story

By Cindy English

I was one of the walking wounded…the cheated.

My story is not “unique” by any stretch of the imagination.

In fact, it is almost a cliché!
 

Sadly, hundreds of good women will see themselves in my story. But, just because it is so familiar, doesn’t make it any less painful for each woman who endures it. 

Let me tell you what I have learned.

At 20, I married my long time friend and lover. He was a handsome ‘bad boy’ who was fun and had a terrific sense of humor. He was very spontaneous and he was great in bed! What else could any young girl possibly wish for? 

We were young, “in love”, and having the time of our lives. We hung out with our friends, we partied hard, went games, concerts and everything else that was ‘important’ in life.

Hell, three of us even ran a police car off the road in the middle of a high speed chase once and got away with it! We didn’t do it on purpose, it’s just that my guy was a better driver than the police officer was…apparently.

True story! 

People in that little town still talk about “Bo, Luke and Daisy” (Dukes of Hazard) coming into town one dark night in a Black Camaro Z-28! Everyone knew who did it but not one sole ever ratted us out. What a rush! Yup…those were the ‘good old days’! We were running on pure adrenaline!

So, when this exciting ‘bad boy’ asked me to marry him? Wow! Of course I did! 

Fast forward. 

One year later and expecting our first child. What the hell happened? I’m 8 months pregnant and definitely not feeling very sexy. The responsibilities and expenses of having to run our own household are piling up. Where’s the joy?

I would be lying if I didn’t say that I resented my husband at times for his ‘we’ll worry about it tomorrow’ attitude. And why shouldn’t he feel that way? Being pregnant wasn’t stopping him from drinking and partying and having a great time with our friends. He wasn’t the one trying to figure out how to pay $500 worth of bills on $400. He wasn’t the one that had to keep the house clean, cook and work.

Well, somehow, we survived that hurdle although, due to his lack of participation in child rearing, I vowed not to have anymore children. What for? He wasn’t having anything to do with the little girl we already had? He had a real aversion to changing diapers. Nope, no more kids!

Through the years, my husband changed very little. Growing up did not seem to be an option for him. He still went out with what use to be ‘our’ friends and partied, He played hockey, baseball, pool and darts and much to my envy, HE still seemed to be having fun – damn it! I still wanted to have fun too, but obligations seemed to get in the way. After all, someone had to be the responsible adult in this family and it certainly wasn’t going to be him!

Looking back, this is was the beginning of the end for us. Women seem to ‘grow up’ and accept the responsibilities that come with raising kids and running a household much more than men do. A guy thinks that he has done his part once he brings the paycheck home.

While I was busy working, raising a child and tending house, he was busy working and having fun! When I got out of work, I still had work to do. When he got out of work, he was ready to play. A squeeze on the backside while telling me I had a ‘nice ass’ use to be enough to get me into bed. Why wasn’t it working anymore? Same old tired story – the child was sick and kept me up all night, I just got home from work, I have to bake cookies for school tomorrow, I am too tired, I have a headache, yeah, yeah, yeah.

This does not compute with guys. They want sex! Don’t get me wrong, I did too. I just wanted it to feel like love and not just a ‘service call’ to be added to my already long list of duties. My ability to ‘stop, drop and roll’ was hindered by my sense of obligation. So needless to say, the frequency of our intimate times dwindled and as any woman can tell you, with a child in the house, spontaneity went right out the window! We were still good together, just not as often as needed.

I guess that I knew in my heart for a long time that my husband was cheating on me. As the years rolled on, there were nights when he didn’t show up for supper. Hell, there were nights when he didn’t show up at all. By most women’s standards, I suppose I should have called his bluff and thrown in the towel. But, when he was home, I saw the ‘bad boy’ that I fell in love with. That boyish grin, the hilarious answers and that familiar squeeze on the backside would warm and win me over every time. 

We didn’t fight much. As a matter of fact, we worked and played well together. We completely renovated our entire home together without killing each other, which is rare. We made plans, we had dreams, we were still best friends and most importantly, I felt loved.

I remember the day my world blew apart quite vividly. September 16th, 1994. It was surreal. As I entered our bedroom to put away freshly folded laundry, sitting on our bed, back to me, was my husband talking on the phone with his girlfriend. I said nothing. I sat out of sight and listened. My heart was pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears.

Prior to overhearing that phone conversation, I had absolutely no idea that my husband was about to leave me. I am not sure that he did either.

I often wonder if I had not confronted him about that call, would he have continued life as it were? After all, what did he have to gain by leaving? He had a terrific home complete with all of the gadgets current to the technology of the time. He had a swimming pool, satellite TV, two good vehicles, one cat, one dog, one wife who he knew loved him unconditionally (obviously) and a daughter who thought the sun rose and set on her dear old Dad. Talk about having your cake and eating it too!

I do know that once I did confront him about the call, his whole demeanor changed instantly. I never saw my happy-go-lucky, fun loving husband again. He was replaced by a man I had never met. One who seemed dark and peculiar. He never smiled. He admitted that he had no answer when I asked “WHY?” By his own admission, I had been a good wife and mother. It made no sense. In the days that followed, he alienated his friends, his family and everyone he held dear. It was as though he were a trapped animal, trying to be set free. Perhaps it was easier to escape than to stay and deal with the embarrassment, I will never know for sure.

Then chain of events that followed were, I believe, partly due to peer pressure and the ‘unwritten laws’ on how to deal with adultery.  It is universally accepted that:   

All men who cheat are the ‘scum of the earth! 

There is absolutely no excuse for adultery whatsoever.

Any man who does cheat does not love his wife.

The woman is not to blame in slightest, it was completely the man’s choice.

No self respecting woman will stay with a man who cheats on her.

The only sensible outcome is to dump the cheating bastard immediately.

Although I did ask my husband to stay, it was not meant to be. I told him no one would have to know, that we were a family and that we should stick together and fix whatever was broken. I was unaware at the time that the whole damn world already knew. I was the last to find out.

True to form, and guided by those unwritten adultery laws, we followed the path of least resistance. We dumped 15 years of history, family and friends because of pride and how it would look to others. When I think back on it now, I believe it is the cowards way out. It is much easier to blame and flame then it is to stick it out and work it out.

Not surprisingly, it wasn’t about love for my husband. He dumped the woman he was talking to on the phone immediately. I think often, unfortunately, women involved with [tag-tec]married men[/tag-tec], misinterpret sex for love when in fact there is no love involved. Men are doing what by human nature, comes naturally – they are satisfying an urge.

I know that statement is going to send droves of jilted women into a frenzy but, I am entitled to my opinion. We are animals. Animals do not mate because they are in love, they mate because they have the biological urge to have sex. It is undeniably natural.

I am not suggesting that cheating is okay. Unlike other animals, we have been granted the powers of higher reasoning. With those powers comes the ability to weigh the consequences of our actions. It should be enough to deter people from throwing away a good life and family but sadly, that is not always the case.

What I am suggesting is that “sex” can surely not be all there is to love. Did my husband stop loving me at the moment he had sex with someone else? I don’t think so. Was the entire 15 years of love I felt for him severed instantly the moment I discovered his infidelity? No. I loved him for who he was. He made me laugh and he made me cry. He is my daughter’s father and he was my friend. That is why I loved him.

Today, marriages have an astonishing failure rate. I think if people took the time to communicate, and realized that infidelity, although hurtful, is not the hill to die on, we would have a much healthier society. A society with real families, with secure, happy children who knew whose house they were sleeping at tonight.

My family became a statistic and I do regret it every day. Over twelve years later, I can tell you that a small part of me still loves my ex-husband and a huge part of me still misses my friend!

The really interesting thing about all of this is, that almost 13 years and 2000 miles separate us. Imagine my surprise when my ex-husband called just recently to say that he was “sorry” and that he regretted his mistakes!

He is a day late and a dollar short, but somehow, hearing it was somewhat gratifying just the same. He is my friend, and I do miss him, but that part of my life is long over. 

Upward and onward!