Cheaters and Cheating and the Cheated.

There is a bit of drama going down with someone I know. Essentially, he helped end a relationship because the ‘she’ was cheating on her boyfriend with him. It’s a little sad because my friend and the boyfriend are actually friends. They were friends first. It’s just sad because the couple were living together and he was preparing to propose to her within 2 years time. The boyfriend wanted to wait until she finished school and settled in her career before moving ahead and proposing. It’s a big step after all – a big step that’s not coming now. It’s sad … They were always just known as the “couple”. Now, they’re not. And the sad thing is that because the boyfriend is pretty quiet, his girlfriend is probably the one that more people in their social group will choose to include in the get-togethers over the boyfriend. I really should start calling him the ex-boyfriend at this point.

Cheating isn’t really all that surprising to me. I mean, it makes sense in a strange, saddening way. Biologically, our goal is to find the right partner (especailly females) that will support us in order to build a family. I mean that’s why we date, break up and date other people. It’s all about finding the right person and whatever steps you need to take in order to do that. The only thing that differentiates cheating and the normal dance of dating/breaking up is that someone doesn’t have the nerve to break up first before they start seeing other people. And it’s not hard to relate to that – at least for me. I get it. You’re so used to something always being there that you can’t help but … just kind of hold it to the back burner while your attention is being drawn somewhere more interesting.

And while my friends are really “disapointed and mad” at our friend, I’m not that upset at him. It happens. Sometimes you just fall for someone that isn’t available and you can’t help yourself but … want more. And sometimes you do things that you know you shouldn’t do, because it just makes you happy. When you’re in a place where happiness is hard to come by, it’s kind of hard to not reach out for it when it’s offered. I’m not negating his actions or saying that what he did was okay, but I can understand. That’s all. I get it.

All I know is that when something that you’ve wanted for a long time suddenly appears in front of you and offers itself to you, you’re more than likely to go for it – even if that means acting immorally sometimes. In our love-addled minds, we start doing the math and even when it’s all boggled down in mistakes, we sit back and smile brightly because we think we’ve got it right. We allow ourselves to act in ways that we probably wouldn’t otherwise because we think that it’s all justified in love and war. But is it?

Personally, I’m torn. I’ve seen it from one side and I’ve lived it from another. They both suck. On one hand you can’t imagine why the means don’t justify the ends. You can’t imagine why after all this, you don’t deserve the prize. And in many ways you start acting without thinking. You start doing things that your brain screams “STOP!” to but your heart drowns out with louder screams of “I LOVE YOU”. It’s the fear that not doing anything could lose you something amazing. That if you let this opportunity slip, you could potentially let the right person slip away. You could let happiness slip away. And it’s this pain of “what if” that burns inside you and makes it impossible to sleep and almost impossible to give up.

On the other hand, when you’re the one being left behind, all you feel is loss. When you find out, you just become a pool of loss and regret and questions. You can’t figure out anything. You’d ask questions, if only you knew what questions would satiate your soul and stop the spinning. There’s almost nothing you can do about it, but look at the remains and just accept them as the result of a grand mistake, that you had nothing to do with but pay the full price for. Then afterwards you have to move on. It’s like having a big burn in the middle of your floor that you can’t cover up and just learning to live with it until becomes part of the norm. It’s learning to not constantly scold yourself for not being more careful when you walk past it and grimacing at the sight of it.

The older I get, the more I start realizing that truly nothing is black and white. It is just filled with shades of grey and sepia tone and all these colours. It’s the entire spectrum of light. Everything is more complicated than it appears on the surface. No exceptions – everything. 


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