Why is the Universal Bullshit Translator so skeptical of cheater sincerity? Because your average cheater — the sort that posts their Sorry But I’m An Enlightened Creature Now confessionals online — can’t go two sentences without sniveling about their own butt-hurt selves.
This is so hard on ME! When are you going to stop being so mean to ME! AIGH! A consequence!
If you have to deflect the conversation from the pain you inflicted on innocents to your own self-inflicted pain? Yeah, your sorry is bullshit. Sorry.
Today’s UBT faux apology fodder is “A letter to my husband from his cheating wife.”
Right now we are messaging about bullshit stuff like your car and phone bills and your phone screen cracking. And my heart feels like it is being torn into shreds.
Enough about your Verizon data usage overages! ME! MY PAIN!
Attending a friend’s wedding last month confirmed that there is no one I want to ever go through that with again. You are my guy.
Except for that other guy I was fucking. Weddings make me misty. For cake.
We were so in love on our wedding day. We were kids, but kids in love. We didn’t know what we were doing. But I committed then, that day.
By “we” I mean me. I didn’t know what I was doing. I committed. But I cheated. I fail to understand commitment.
Commitments are childish things you do when you love someone. Kids!
Then I lost my way. I made mistakes. I am so sorry. I want to fix it.
Darn GPS. I turned left at Fuck Brad Blvd. I meant to stay on You Are My Guy.
I really want to appear strong and fine to you but I am not. I miss you so very much. There is no other for me.
Um. Except for Brad.
I am listening to acoustic versions of sad songs.
And if you don’t come back to me now I will resort to yodeling.
This probably isn’t helping my cause but wallowing right now is making me feel a bit better.
The mindfuck station is firmly set to self-pity. I enjoy a good wallow, don’t you?
I have been putting on a strong exterior to get by with life but I am hating being apart from you. I am hating living with housemates, and not my husband.
They make me pay for my own groceries and shit. But not you. You bought me groceries. God, I miss living with
your money you.
My husband. I didn’t truly appreciate the value and privilege of being able to say those words before. The past 5 months have really opened my eyes to how much I love and adore you, and how much I want to be the kind of wife that you are proud of.
It took 5 months of living with housemates and Brad dumping me for me to realize how much I adore
a Plan B you. I didn’t value the privilege of having a chump. #eyeswideopennow
You are very black and white,
… to think cheating is a big deal. The problem is your moral absolutism. Not that I fucked Brad.
so if you think that ship has sailed, that I’ve made such grave mistakes that you cannot move on from, then that’s fair enough.
That cheating could be a “grave mistake” is your black and white perception. I don’t see it as such a big deal, but HEY, I’m APOLOGIZING ANYWAY. If you can’t Move On that’s fair enough, you narrow-minded, unforgiving, festering slab of resentment. #youaremyguy
Just let me know and I will leave you alone.
The whole moving out to live with roommates thing, you didn’t mean that, right?
But I just can’t seem to give up or lose sight of you. The fact you are still in touch gives me glimmers of hope that you aren’t ready to completely give up either.
We still own a car and phone plan together, but these financial entanglements that I refuse to sever let me know you care!
I have said before that I’ll wait as long as it takes. I am starting to realize that I actually will.
When I said “I will wait” before, that was just some crap that came out of my mouth. But now? I’m starting to realize, that I might actually mean something I said. Mind BLOWN!
Witnessing these weddings and watching my friends repeat vows brought me back to our wedding day. Two babies saying these huge words of commitment to each other. I didn’t know what I was saying.
Like ga-ga or bubba. Could mean bottle, could mean Binky, or mommy. Who understands baby talk? Huge words are too much for babies.
I thought I did. I am starting to grapple with it now. It’s sad but it took two years of marriage, one act of infidelity, and losing you, for my vows to really sink in. I realise the gravity of them now and I want to demonstrate that commitment.
TWO YEARS of cake — LOST. I realize the gravity of lost cake now. And I want to demonstrate my commitment to cake by securing you as my backup plan.
It’s five months later. I’m not a baby anymore. I’m a toddler. I’m going to pitch a fit because I lost you. That’s what it takes to understand vows. Similarly, I’m not toilet trained yet. I need to shit my pants for a few more years before “dry underwear” really sinks in.
My revelation. I didn’t really love you before. I loved how you fit in with my life. You ticked all my boxes — good looking, smart, caring, good family. I didn’t see you as a person in your own right. You were my husband which, to me at the time, meant sole source of my happiness. What a sad and delusional way I was living.
I didn’t see you as a person. And I don’t see you now, because I live with roommates. But trust me when I say I LOVE YOU! You tick all my boxes. Please tick the chump box.
It’s been tough to reprogram my behaviour and grapple with massive insecurities. But I am coming through the other side. As sorry as I am for the hurt I’ve caused you, how glad I am that I have been able to grow up and into who I was meant to be.
A sad child who lives with inconsiderate roommates.
Isn’t my potential awesome? Hurting you was an exercise in self-growth for ME. And doesn’t that make it all worth it?
Sorry, not sorry!
I have now experienced both sides of the coin. I know how awful I can be without any kind of accountability, and for the past few months I am seeing myself through new eyes. How accountable I am to God and myself, how I respect myself so much and care for myself and value myself so much more than ever before.
I cheated and got dumped and respect myself so much more as a result!
This wasn’t about me disrespecting and not valuing YOU — it’s about me not valuing MYSELF more.
But God loves me, and he’s got my back on this. He loves me. What the hell is wrong with you?
My recklessness is no longer part of me. I realise now I have something to lose.
Namely, cake. I’ll never be that reckless again. I’ll be much better at hiding my entitlement next time.
My second revelation. I had a drinking problem. It’s dawning on me that you can be a weekend alcoholic. For me there was no ‘off’ switch. I would drink with reckless abandon. My drinking and loneliness (which were not your fault or your doing, but all my own issues) were like scooping fire into my lap and thinking I wouldn’t get burnt. And then, what follows were these horrific acts of infidelity.
That “accountability” I just mentioned? The booze made me cheat on you. It was all Jaegermeister’s fault.
There is no justification but I hope you understand that my cheating wasn’t a result of a sober-minded person calculating a secret affair.
It was the result of a drunk person calculating a secret affair.
My loneliness combined with dangerous drinking habits was a perfect storm for empty acts of infidelity to occur.
So long as I’m never lonely again, and there’s no booze — no perfect storm! We’re safe!
It’s sad but it took two years of marriage, one act of infidelity, and losing you, for my vows to really sink in.
One act of infidelity. Empty actS of infidelity. The semantics of many times I fucked around doesn’t matter — I’ve turned a corner!
I’ve been sober for about 4 months now and feel so much better. There’s been a lot of soda.
If I cheat on you again, I’ll blame the aspartame. #fuckyoudietcoke
How grateful I am that I got an awakening before something irreversible happened.
Like you finalize that divorce.
I have a lot to be grateful for. Supportive parents, really amazing in-laws, a sister and brothers who are worried for me. Friends who invite me for dinner to make sure I am eating. I have a husband that will still even message me despite how I treated him.
I’m so grateful for all the little people who care. Peel me a grape, bitches.
I pray that if you are ever open to it, we are allowed a second chance. I don’t want you to be pressured to do anything but just know that I will continue to wait.
No pressure. Just a published blog-post or six. Take your time.
You were the love of my life. You still are. I am grateful for the time I was allowed to spend with you, and if I am fortunate enough to spend more time with you I will never forget what a privilege that is.
I was a baby. A kid! I didn’t understand vows. I didn’t love you, I loved the idea of you. I didn’t see you as a person.
You were the love of my life!
Babies understand love. It’s monosyllabic. We choke on polysyllabic words like “commitment.”
Maybe we can get together and practice big words? And sobriety? Buy you a soda?
You are loving in your own practical no-BS way. You are so funny. You are so silly. I miss our silliness.
Dirty cheat. How easy it was for me to judge people who cheated and were unfaithful. From my pedestal I would sanctimoniously feel pity for them.
You wouldn’t want to be one of those sanctimonious people who judge, would you?
Hey, this has all just been a bit of silliness! Who’s got yer nose?! This little piggy went to the market… whee whee whee! LOL!
“Why don’t they just leave them?”; “They must have so little self-respect”; “What a coward”; or the inventive “What an arsehole/slut”. You know what, I am in this category and I can liken the situation to being swept away by a current without noticing until you look around and you don’t see anything familiar anymore. Your standards/goalposts shift ever so slightly more and more, every day. You create your own whirlpool of resentment to your spouse and self pity for yourself that you justify your abhorrent behaviour.
No whirlpools of self-pity here, no Sir.
I’m just going to whimper some more until a friend checks on me and brings me food.
I hope they get here soon before I am swept away by currents of unfamiliarity.
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
I am so grateful that my eyes were opened and I came clean to you. Telling you was the most horrific thing to ever have endured — knowingly hurting the love of my life — but it was our best chance of (re)creating a strong marriage. You were the innocent victim in the train wreck that was my life for several years.
I cheated and devastated you because it was our Best Chance at having a strong marriage. Next I’m going to hammer your kneecaps with a threaded pipe to improve your posture. Because I care.
It’s going to be a long hard road whatever happens to us (together or apart) but I am strong enough and know myself well enough to be up to the task. If it’s apart, at least I’m not opposed to cats.
If you piss off a cat, they shit in your slippers. It’s going to be a long, hard road.