I mean, it makes a certain sense. If you’re prone to boredom, need instant gratification, can’t foresee consequences, live in a cloud of entitlement, and are frequently absent, you probably can’t commit to a houseplant much less a spouse. (For all I know cheaters suck at houseplants too.)
Home ownership, gardening, child-rearing needs a lot of commitment and stick-to-it-tiveness. There can be a lot of pride that comes from this work, but it’s not often immediately gratifying. The sewer pipe collapses. The kid flunks his driver’s test for the umpteenth time. The garden is consumed by an infestation of bindweed. Who you gonna call? A chump. Chumps get shit done. Cheaters not so much.
So today, draw some parallels between your cheater and your home. Was your cheater all flash? Marble foyer, rats in the basement? Was your cheater all half-assed? Seven years with a gutted bathroom? Was your cheater all acquisition? Hoarder mentality, all the acquisition, none of the responsibility?
And the corollary — if you left a cheater, what’s your home like now? I bet the houseplants are thriving.