The day hadn’t been going good. Nothing feels right on days that begin without hearing her voice. The morning playlist seems dull, tea too strong, and water hotter than needed.
Fights are not uncommon between us, but it is only once or twice in these seven years I have been pushed to an extent that I had to tell her this relationship can’t go on. Not this way.
I wanted her to change. I justified this unjust demand by telling her that I changed a lot for her. It’s only partly true. I changed, but it wasn’t for her. It was for myself. I refined myself every second so that I could feel confident enough to be at the receiving end of her love, to deserve her affection, to be worthy enough of being the first person she thinks of every morning and the last before she retires.
She has always accepted the way I am, with all my flaws. But I wanted to change her.
I ‘thought’ she was over friendly with certain people. I trusted her, but not those friends. Why wouldn’t any man try his luck with such a charming, desirable woman? I now know she was not being over friendly. She is the same to everyone, outgoing. That’s simply who she is.
I trusted her. But she made me regret it.
We didn’t speak this morning because I decided to part ways with her yesterday evening. She cheated me. She got physically intimate with a colleague, the day before.
They had gone out for dinner. Knowing that she can’t handle herself or drive after more than two drinks, she chose to drink with him. He offered to drop her home, she invited him inside. She went to change, but lay down on her bed. He lay down next to her. They made out initially and then had sex.
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This is what she told me. She regretted it. She was crying uncontrollably. I didn’t bother to calm her.
I told her we couldn’t continue being in this relationship despite the fact that she confessed and regretted her act. I drove off after kissing her goodbye, heartbroken that she had sex with someone else. She could have chosen not to tell me. I wouldn’t have known. But that’s not who she is. That’s not how we were.
This morning, thoughts flooded my mind. By afternoon, I knew I couldn’t work without getting closure. By evening, I knew what I had to do. I picked up my phone and called her. I told her I wanted to meet her at my place.
She came. She looked destroyed. Before she could say anything, I hugged her. Tight. She fitted in my arms perfectly. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Baby, I know it is difficult. I know whatever happened feels awful. But I am here to make things better. I am here,” I managed to say.
Her fingers clutched me tighter. Her tears wet my shirt.
“Things happen. What we feel is the end of the world might not really be as big an issue. I am hurt, but I am not giving up on us. I don’t want to. I have always considered trust the primary pillar of a relationship. You haven’t broken my trust. In fact, you reinstated it, gave me the biggest reassurance. We have been together for seven years. I never felt like going to another woman, you never felt like going to another man. But something happened and IT IS OKAY,” I said, as I gently stroked her hair.
“You’re more important to me than my ego.
“You as a person, as the love of my life, as my anchor, are more important to me than your body or what you do with it.”
“I could say I forgive you, but I think there is nothing to forgive. You did something I did not really like, I got pissed, we fought, and now we are sorting it out. It’s already sorted from my side. Would you like to move on, forget this episode and get back to normal life? Life as we know it?”
Her hug tightened. She cried like a baby and I didn’t leave her.
“I love you as much as I used to, or even more. Thank you for telling me the truth. Thanks for trusting me. In future, such things might happen again. Our commitment is towards this unbreakable trust, not to each other’s bodies. I will be disappointed, shattered if it happens again, I might be furious, but I will still choose you over my ego.”
Three weeks later, she smiled from the heart and met my eyes. Maybe she could forgive herself, and forgive my hasty “let’s end this” drama.
Forgiving is not hard. Try it, reclaim your life.