How I Cheated On My Wife

I tried to stop…

I cheat on my wife. I can’t help it. The sensations, the anticipation are all too much for me. Hell, I have tried and tried to stop. But it’s a force so powerful as to almost defy description. It’s a mistress always there, always willing to meet my needs, never asking anything in return. Clearly, I need help.

I definitely don’t want to be one of those slimeballs that betray a partner’s trust. So, I have become an expert in rationalizations. My go-to is that I have a compulsion, maybe even a disorder that would explain my behavior. Or, what I’m doing makes me happier so it will make our marriage better. Or, what I do has nothing to do with how much I love my wife. Or, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Or, life can be so dull and transactional so what’s wrong with a little fun now and then. Or, no one is really faithful so why make a big deal of it? Just writing these rationalizations seem lame and pathetic at best and narcissistic and sociopathic at worst.

I live in fear of getting caught. It pervades my existence. Every time my wife calls me at work I fear that the jig is up. I feel tortured in harboring this secret. I have put in place rigorous methods to make sure there is no incriminating evidence to expose my misbehavior; I have to be especially careful when doing it at home. I’m riddled with guilt and my work…