A Man’s Worst Nightmare And Infidelity
The other day, I heard a story about a woman who cheated on her boyfriend. It was so sad, the story, not because of her act of infidelity. I know all too well women are just as capable of being unfaithful as men are, so anytime I hear about a woman stepping out on her boyfriend or husband or fiancé, I don’t really flinch.
What makes me wince, and what made this story so particularly disturbing was the act itself was something she would have never done with her boyfriend.
This particular girl was doing things with more than one person at the same time, and I will spare all details, but to give this post context, the most memorable quote from the re-telling of this story was, “I’ve never done this before.” Let’s not get into what ‘this’ was exactly, and let’s not get into whether or not she was telling the truth. For the sake of conversation, let’s say what ‘this’ was, was something she never did with anyone else, or rather, not with her boyfriend who was sound sleep back at the apartment they shared.
(Just to clear the air, this was nothing of which I was apart. It was a story I heard from a couple of guys I met at this party. They told me the whole thing about this one woman this one time, a long time ago. It was a conversation I just walked in on and I kept up with it to expound on it.)
The men and I discussed how there’s different levels of cheating. We talked about the most common acts, of how men cheat physically, and how women cheat emotionally. We agreed no matter which way a person slices it, cheating is wrong, cheating is bad. All the predictable tropes of a conversation about infidelity. But when we got into this particular story, we discussed a more specific wrinkle that is, as the title implies, the worst kind of cheating.
It’s when we do something with the other person we would never do with or for the person at home.
The thing that made the woman’s story so disturbing was not what she did but the fact that she wasn’t doing it with her boyfriend, or so she claimed. She was doing these things, partaking in a completely different lifestyle than the one she was telling her boyfriend apart. As far as the guys knew, her boyfriend had no idea his girlfriend enjoyed doing the types of things she was doing with these other people. Frankly, it was sad to hear, and it made me ask myself what I could handle if I should ever discover a woman I loved or cared about cheated on me.
My guess is, I can handle a lot. I can handle her falling in love with someone else. I can handle my woman taking things one step too far with another man and doing something on a girl’s night or girls weekend. None of this is to say I would forget or stay with her if such things were revealed to me. I’m simply saying, should a woman I love partake in an act of infidelity and had the guts to tell me, eventually, I’d get over it, with or without her.
What I would never get over, what would probably crush my soul into pieces so tiny it’d look like dust, is if my woman told me the things she did with someone else she never did with me, especially if they were things I wanted to do with her.
And here is where a lot of my readers assume I’m speaking of something to do with bedroom behavior. Au contraire, mon frere…
To wit: A description of a nightmare I have annually. It is kind of similar in nature to what I’ve talked about above because it not only describes cheating, but the worst kind of cheating, the kind of cheating where your partner does something with or for someone else things they would never do with or for the person you.
Let’s say I’m dating a vegetarian. Not only is she a vegetarian, but she’s like a vegetarian advocate. She works in the vegetarian department of PETA (assuming they have such a thing). Her life’s work is converting omnivores such as myself to go full herbivore. For whatever reason, being in a relationship with this woman has made me soften up my meat-eating ways. Slowly, but surely, I come around to adopt her diet philosophy. Me. Of all people, now a vegetarian. I love protein. Fish, steaks, chops, eggs, chicken, all of it. These have been in my diet for as long as I could eat solid foods, and had Gerber been smart enough to release a steak tartare flavored baby food, I’d have eaten that too, but I digress…
So, it’s me, my woman, and my new diet living what seems to be an ideal life. My woman is all sorts of proud of me for changing up my eating habits, our cupboards are filled with a bunch of stuff I would never imagine eating before I met her, and absolutely no meat is in our kitchen. Life is good and healthy too.
Then one day I head home from a business trip one day earlier than my woman is expecting me to be home. I plan to surprise my lady and I’m so excited to see her. On my way, I pick up some fresh, top of the line arugula from the local farmer’s market, as well as some extremely ripe tomatoes. As I approach our house we share, I notice someone else’s car.
I use the keys to open my door, but before I step inside, I hear the faint sound of a sizzling pan. The TV is on, and it’s tuned to Sportscenter, which is odd because this woman I’m dating who is a vegetarian and has converted me to the same lifestyle, never watches Sportscenter. I then walk into our place, and I see my woman full make-out with another man on our couch. I’m shocked! But what really hurts me, what kills me more than anything, and makes me feel like I’ve just been stabbed in the heart with the sharpest knife ever is what I see in the kitchen. Right there, on the stove, in a cast iron skillet is a piece of filet mignon with bacon-wrapped around it.
“WHO IS THIS FOR!?!?” I yell to my woman. Keep in mind, this man who I don’t know is sitting on our couch watching Sportscenter on our TV in his underwear, but he is of no concern to me. I want to know who this bacon-wrapped filet mignon is for! I ask her again, she starts crying and apologizing before she finally admits, it’s for this guy, who is sitting on our couch in his underwear and was just about to do Lord knows what with my woman.
My woman, the woman I loved who made me become a vegetarian and said if I really loved her I would at least make an effort to change my eating habits. My woman, the one who works in the vegetarian department of PETA (assuming they have such a thing), is cooking a bacon-wrapped filet mignon for another man. What she never would do for me, she is doing for another man.
I have this nightmare at least once a year, and every time without fail, I wake up, sweaty, shaking, and hungry.