Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I do not hold a grudge easily. I am forgiving to the point that I should probably be made to stop in some way. If you make me angry about something, which in of itself is such a rare occurrence, unless we share some DNA, I will be upset for approximately 13 hours and then quickly forget any and all transgressions. Quicker if I see you in person. It can be a difficult thing to be so quick to forgive. There are some people in my life that I have tried to stop caring about and cut off all contact due to distasteful words they’ve chosen and I just can’t seem to do it. The next day I’m perusing their Facebook page asking how their cat is feeling now that they finally are able to keep their meds down and offering to help them move to their new place.
I explain this about myself because there are lowly forms of people in this world. People that, while deserve forgiveness because I am a strong believer that we are all forgiven and I have no right to pass judgement on anyone else, still make me feel human and make me wish I was the type of person that could stay angry.
Cheaters are one these forms of a person. Male or female, emotional or physical, nothing changes the cowardice of breaking the trust of someone you ‘love’. I believe that when it comes to a cheating situation both parties are to blame. Not the unknowing victim (although there are some special cases that would prove that otherwise.) but the cheater and cheatee (I know it’s not a word but for this angry blog purpose, it is.). If you yourself have been any one of these people and we are friends…don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. I can’t.
Now while I truly believe (and maybe I’m naive for this as some would suggest) that my ex never physically cheated on me, it’s become apparent that he was emotionally. Now I’ve worked this all out in my head and tried to stay angry with him, which worked for a while, but then the second I saw his face again all was forgiven. I still have moments, especially now that he’s far away, that I can feel the anger building toward him again. But I know if I was to ever see him with those blue eyes staring back at me, it would disappear like everything else I’ve been upset about with him. It’s why I write, to remember the feelings of pain I have and keep them fresh so I don’t keep making the same mistakes.
What I can’t seem to shake is this growing anger I have for the girl. While there was a couple of them he was speaking with over the course of our relationship, this one in particular sticks out to me. From the beginning of our relationship she consistently tried to contact him. At first he told me of every time it happened and laughed as if it was a joke. And of course it was, right? He had already told me many times that things hadn’t worked out because she literally had a mental problem. Why would he ever trade sane in for crazy?
Still the messages continued. The final straw came the week before we broke up. He had altogether stopped telling me when she was messaging him and I tried to never ask. Jealousy is not second nature for me, it was something I had to work on creating over the 2 years we were together. The hurt I saw in his face every time I didn’t immediately question a girl’s motives who came over to flirt with him made me realize that sometimes people need a little bit of jealousy to feel wanted, as messed up as that is. So I allowed a little bit to seep in and let grow.
Then the day came when he asked me to get his cell phone for him. As I unplugged it from his charger I found a message from a different line on his phone displayed across the screen, “Hey, I know I shouldn’t be messaging you but I was just reading 50 Shades of Grey…” It trailed off leaving the rest of that message a mystery but I would have been a fool to not realize where it was heading. Her name was prominently splashed across my hand, this wasn’t the first time they’d spoken. My heart clenched. My hands became clammy and I dropped the phone. I decided not to open the rest of the message as I sat there reeling from what I’d seen. Instead, I took it upstairs to where he laid in bed and gave it over to him. I curled up beside him and told him what I’d witnessed and asked him to show me the rest. He declined as I’d expected and the horror on his face already gave me the answers I needed without him having to say another word.
The anger and disgust I feel for this person is unmatchable. I have never felt it like this before. It’s human and emotional and raw and I’m not quite sure how to deal with it. I’m not good with emotions, I can write them down with pretty words and explain them with simple plots but to feel them is another thing I haven’t quite mastered. I often picture her face, with her dark hair and her chunky glasses to match her body and my fist tightens and my cheeks grow heated.
I’m not sure when this feeling will go away and I’m not quite sure I’m ready for it to yet. There’s only so much time and energy I can spend being upset at him and it’s almost a relief to focus that onto someone else. Someone I don’t know and have never met, someone who I probably will never even run into. Someone who in the back of my mind I know is probably a very nice person and if I wasn’t in this situation I’m sure we’d be friends because I can’t not be friends with anyone. This is what keeps me from taking my irrational feelings and finding her somewhere all alone and punching her square in the face, because I know once I met her I wouldn’t be able to help forgiving her and for just this one time, I want to stay angry. I want to feel it.
This might seem a bit like a self-righteous post but I think I have a personal perspective on it. These people who become involved in this type of scandal come to a point where they face a choice, do they continue on with the secret smiles and messages in hopes that someday he chooses them? Or do they choose the other path and decide that flirting with danger is just that, dangerous. I was once put in this position a few years back and I can’t say how relieved I am to know that when faced with that choice I chose the right one. I don’t know how I’d live with myself otherwise.
Which is why I know I’ve already truly forgiven her, I can stomp around and act mad and write long ranting blogs about the revenge I’ll take (ahem!) but she is now the one who has to face herself every day and it will be tough for her later on if it isn’t already and that makes me sad. Because you can’t ever truly be happy yourself, by stealing someone else’s happiness.
The smell of a warm fire. Hot cocoa burning the roof of your mouth. The crunch of snow beneath your boots. These all are pretty exciting senses you get to experience this time of year, but they aren’t my favorites.
Second Star On The Write 