I cheat on my wife. Quite regularly, I might add. It's not even one of those situations where I 'm doing it behind her back, however. She knows; the extent of how much a mystery to even me. In my day, I was never known as the man who dated stupid women, and I definitely didn't marry her because she had less than a 4.2 GPA in high school. She was the valedictorian to my salutatorian and nothing makes my pants a little tighter than a smart woman, but that wasn't even the reason I married her. I married her because she didn't judge me for my faults and blindly loved me beyond all reason. I've loved her since the day we met and I'll continue to love her for as long as she'll allow and I suppose that's the reason that I feel even the slightest bit guilty about what it is that I do. The acts that I commit that go against the sanctity of our marriage. I love my wife. I just don't love her enough to not want to have sex with other women.
Two years ago, I think it was a Thursday, I got off work and went to a bar. It had been a rather difficult day for me. The boss kept yelling, the copy machine broke down while I was using it and I got ink on my tie. I wanted nothing more than to go unwind in a smoky bar with a cold beer in hand. Somehow I ended up unwinding with a busty twenty-something in the bathroom of said smoky bar. And again in the car on the way back to my apartment. And again in my apartment as my wife, a newlywed as we were at this point, walked into the apartment and stumbled upon me with a clenched fist full of hair and a strawberry-blond buried face first in between my legs. That was far from the first time I had been caught of course, but it was the first time after we had gotten married. I suppose that I was expected to give up that particular extracurricular activity after vowing to love and cherish 'til death do us part, but I was finding it a rather hard habit to break.
She cried and threw anything within her reach at my head and I think she actually beat up my guest for a while until she gathered up her clothes and escaped my wife's wrath. What a lucky woman. Shortly afterward, bags were packed and my wife walked out on me for about a week. And for every day of that week I got on my knees and begged and pleaded for her to not leave me. And after seven days she came back home after making me promise never to cheat on her again. My wife, smart woman, slightly lacking in common sense.
It is now two and a half years later and she still hasn't left me, the incident being far from the last time I was caught. Every morning I wake up and expect to have a severed penis a la Lorena Bobbitt and divorce papers on the nightstand next to the bed and every morning I'm still all of the man I was when I went to bed the night before. There is always breakfast in the morning, dinner at night and shared kisses before we go to bed. Sometimes we even consummate our own relationship, both of us with the full knowledge that I consummate it with others too. Maybe one day she'll come to her senses and realize what an awful husband I am. In actuality, I'm pretty sure she already knows. Already has plans with the garden shears and a house in Mexico ready to reside in after the murder is done and the body is disposed of. I live in fear of the woman I love because of a problem I have, but until the day comes where I have to act upon my fear I'll have my cake and have the ability to eat other pastries at will.
I'd once heard that all actions have reactions and everything a person does, good or bad, comes with the consequences of said action. When will I be forced to reap the consequences for my actions?
Two years ago, I think it was a Thursday, I got off work and went to a bar. It had been a rather difficult day for me. The boss kept yelling, the copy machine broke down while I was using it and I got ink on my tie. I wanted nothing more than to go unwind in a smoky bar with a cold beer in hand. Somehow I ended up unwinding with a busty twenty-something in the bathroom of said smoky bar. And again in the car on the way back to my apartment. And again in my apartment as my wife, a newlywed as we were at this point, walked into the apartment and stumbled upon me with a clenched fist full of hair and a strawberry-blond buried face first in between my legs. That was far from the first time I had been caught of course, but it was the first time after we had gotten married. I suppose that I was expected to give up that particular extracurricular activity after vowing to love and cherish 'til death do us part, but I was finding it a rather hard habit to break.
She cried and threw anything within her reach at my head and I think she actually beat up my guest for a while until she gathered up her clothes and escaped my wife's wrath. What a lucky woman. Shortly afterward, bags were packed and my wife walked out on me for about a week. And for every day of that week I got on my knees and begged and pleaded for her to not leave me. And after seven days she came back home after making me promise never to cheat on her again. My wife, smart woman, slightly lacking in common sense.
It is now two and a half years later and she still hasn't left me, the incident being far from the last time I was caught. Every morning I wake up and expect to have a severed penis a la Lorena Bobbitt and divorce papers on the nightstand next to the bed and every morning I'm still all of the man I was when I went to bed the night before. There is always breakfast in the morning, dinner at night and shared kisses before we go to bed. Sometimes we even consummate our own relationship, both of us with the full knowledge that I consummate it with others too. Maybe one day she'll come to her senses and realize what an awful husband I am. In actuality, I'm pretty sure she already knows. Already has plans with the garden shears and a house in Mexico ready to reside in after the murder is done and the body is disposed of. I live in fear of the woman I love because of a problem I have, but until the day comes where I have to act upon my fear I'll have my cake and have the ability to eat other pastries at will.
I'd once heard that all actions have reactions and everything a person does, good or bad, comes with the consequences of said action. When will I be forced to reap the consequences for my actions?
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