So I’ve bottled up a lot of anger about infidelity.
It made me frantic with rage when I was on the receiving end of it.
It made me nauseous to hear recently that a close friend has been at the receiving end of it.
It’s a bit like violent crime. You know that there are oh so many complicated circumstances that drive people to it, and it’s all motivated by perfectly human need. But every instance adds to the sum total of awfulness in the world. Every instance makes you wish that just that one time, just that one person had chosen not to do it. One person puts down a knife; there’s one fewer wound bleeding in the world. Because these things are finite. Because we live in a world where we are bound more tightly to every other living creature than we may care to notice.
Of the people I see daily, most have been – at one time or another – hurt or betrayed by a partner that simply didn’t have the integrity to draw the line underneath one relationship before starting another. Or didn’t care enough to stay committed to the one they were in.
I know it happens. I know that these things aren’t simple, and people find themselves doing things they never meant to, things they never particularly wished for or things they aren’t particularly proud of.
But I’m just saying, it’s rubbish. Infidelity only has one outcome, and that outcome is pain. That’s the only place it leads. And no matter how much soothing promise seems offered along the way, that’s the way it heads. Pain pain pain. Sooner or later at least one of the parties will get hurt, and most of the time more than one will.
If he’s going to leave her for you, rather wait til he’s left her before you take his hand.
If he’s not going to leave her for you, wouldn’t you be glad you didn’t?
Put. It. Down.