I must be stupid.
Even now, hours after I discovered it, it hurts. And it's probably going to hurt for a long while.
I feel gullible and used... but even those aren't the words to describe this ache.
It's dull. It's as if I'm staring down into an abyss with no direction to go but down and ever onwards. And I'm not sure which I fear more. The fright of falling and the uncertainty that taints my thoughts as I do so... or the point at which I impact the ground and the full force of reality slaps me across the face, splitting my lips till I bleed. And I bleed profusely.
Low blood pressure. Passed out when the doc's drew it through a needle the last time. But that is beside the point.
How did I get caught in this trap? I remember telling myself I wouldn't be one of those women. Cheated and trampled. And taking them back when they come begging.
5 chances. That's all I'm going to give.
1. For the girl he promised not to trespass.
2. For the girl he hid away in the dark.
3. For the girl he took in the open.
4. For the girl he stole behind the veil.
And 5 is open and ready. Ready and willing.
And they wonder why I hate men.
With each betrayal, I grow more and more insular, mute to the boys I once called "friend" and cold to the boys who take a second look. They don't know just what it is I'd like to do.
Like an itch. Part of me wants to cling to them steadfast with an iron grip and another part wishes nothing more than the lot of them crushed beneath the weight of a thousand broken hearts.
Ugh. He broke it again. How clutzy can a person be? Tape and glue only go so far before the whole thing has to be tossed in the rubbish.
But now to the short and short of it.
My boyfriend cheated on me again. I wanted to send him a kiss, and silly me, thought he didn't get it. Checked his mail, curious if he'd opened it.
Of course he had.
...And the item below it.
Holy... It was like the world stopped spinning. Or a twelve ton brick dashed my rib cage open on the cement drive. It was nasty, not because of the content... but the circumstance. And it hurt like all hell.
Just make it stop.
Tear it all out.
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Topic: Is Cybersex considered cheating?
From Anonymous
Depends on who you are, if you are one of the Clintons of this world, no I guess not, no physical contact from another person, got to love those loop holes. The truth is, that yes it is a form of adultery, and if your partner doesn't know, because you have chosen to hide it, then that is out and out cheating.
My spouse of 16 years had, and as I found out recently, has again cybered. I can almost handle the cybering, because I know he is fascinated and curious, but he took it to another level and got personal, and to me that crosses the line. He gave out his number and email address. The things I have found, through a little investigating and spying on my part, killed me. Their conversations were far more intimate than anything he has ever said to me. It hurts, and still hurts.
At first he denied, until I gave him the name of this person, their number and address. I was given the usual "it doesn't mean anything" speech and "its just fantasy". Call me crazy, but "fantasy" becomes "reality" when you know their name and number, who cares that they live on the other coast, what's a coast between "friends".
Well these fantasies are killing me inside. I don't know what hurts more the fact that he lied, or the intimacy he shared with someone else. I agree, I think there is something lacking for him to need this outlet, yet he says that isn't true... he loves me, again it is just curiosity. He says he will stop, but I have heard that too. I am trying to be open minded; I told him, if he has this need, let me in on it... I am hoping we will be able to get through this together, because it would seem crazy to end a marriage over cyber-sex. But in reality, the marriage would end because of mistrust, a side effect of cyber-sex.
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Reading all the comments from men who cheated on their spouses... They say they're sorry. They say how much it hurts.
But guess what? You enjoyed it while it lasted. And you were nigh on bliss, babes!
...While they sat at home, tending Your children. Running errands for You. Keeping Your house clean. Working an extra job to help pay for Your luxuries. Sweating it off, thinking how happy it might make You.
While You were sweating it off with other women.
Why does it always have to be about You?
I hope that orgasm was as good as it sounded.
Orphne Community Member 
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