My boyfriend cheated on me.
On Friday, Bruce proclaimed he needed a “guys night.” I wasn’t aware that “guys night” involved getting unbelievably hammered and taking a 45-year-old bar hag home to fuck her in the same bed that we shared almost every fucking night. She isn’t even remotely pretty. Just trailer trash. By the way, Bruce is 32. It was a one-night stand with a filthy hag that he couldn’t have cared less about. He was extremely intoxicated and took this dirty bartender Michele back to his place.
My brain won’t shut off. I can’t stop envisioning them together. He was MY boyfriend. God – he kissed her and touched her in the same way he kissed and touched me. He fingered her…. stuck his dick inside her. All the while, I was sitting there and waiting for him to come home. Even after a guys night, I would’ve headed to his place to sleep next to him. We never slept apart unless he was traveling for work. Friday night was the first time, but only one of us slept alone.
The thought of him with another woman makes me want to vomit. I can’t eat. I’ve already thrown up twice. It’s so surreal.
It really makes me wonder how many other times this happened. He did it right under my nose. He traveled all the time for work. Imagine what he was doing in those other cities where I had no chance of finding out…. It’s so fucking sick. Sometimes random women (whom he never mentioned to me) would text him late at night. There were times he wouldn’t open the texts in front of me. He said they were just co-workers. I was a bit suspicious then and clearly I had a reason to be.
And it wasn’t like he wasn’t getting it at home – I ALWAYS want to have sex. I’m usually the one to initiate. I never once turned him down (because I’m usually horny). I’m an attractive person (guess you’ll have to take my word on that). For him to stick his penis inside this sleazy, dirty, ugly bar whore when he has me at home is unthinkable. I don’t understand and I never will. He’s a sick fuck.
He lives in my apartment complex, so I must make peace with the idea that I will see him in passing. Luckily his building is on the other end of the complex. However, after a betrayal like this – He is dead to me.
The last text I will ever send to this man.
There is nothing left to say. I will NEVER utter another word to this piece of shit scumbag for as long as I live. I tried so hard to make us work and he threw it all away for 60 seconds of intercourse with a dirty vagina (60 seconds is pushing it. He never lasted very long in bed). That’s all she was to him – a vagina. She looks like she’d smell too.
I’m devastated. We were ALWAYS together. We were entirely intertwined in each other’s lives. Now it’s over – just like that… completely blindsided.
Admittedly, we were having some major issues (mostly he was acting like a cold-hearted asshole more often than not) and a future break-up was seemingly inevitable. But I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t let go. I wanted it to work so badly. Mostly because I was afraid to be alone again. Maybe this is the kick in the ass I needed to move on with my life. He wasn’t good for me, but I kept trying, and trying, and trying. He took me for granted every single day – and I knew it. I wasn’t happy, but I stayed.
He hasn’t looked me in the eyes for weeks. Leads me to believe last Friday night wasn’t the first time.
It’s over. Adjusting to day-to-day life without him won’t be easy since we were always together. But – this too shall pass. I will never second-guess our break-up. For me, there is no guilt, no remorse and no questions. There is only certainty and hate. Two things that will make it easier to move forward with my life.
I can’t help but feel that life (or fate…) did me an enormous favor. In the long run, this is the best thing that could’ve happened. I can finally move on without wondering “what if?”. There’s no reason to look back. Even with this seething hatred flowing through my veins, I feel oddly free.