Amends

When you do something wrong, it's hard to apologize if you had, at any time, any inkling of belief you were justified in your wrongdoing. But two wrongs don't necessarily make a right, do they?

I committed an act of distrust. I put my nose where it didn't belong. And I found things I really didn't want to see.

I still contend I'm not a jealous person because of a lack of self-esteem--I'm a jealous person because I'm a woman, and I know what back-stabbing malicious bitches women can be. I also know men are a lot smarter than we give them credit for. They don't cheat because they don't care about their wives--they cheat because they know their wives will blame the other woman, not them, and they'll get away with it.

I also believe there's more than one type of cheating. The obvious type that involves the exchange of certain bodily fluids, and the more controversial type that involves the exchange of innermost thoughts and feelings. Many people (men in particular) don't believe the latter form exists. I do.

I've been a cheater. I've also been the cheatee. Both are a lot like having dinner at Long John Silver's--it sounds good, and it's great in the beginning, but you end up thinking it probably wasn't such a great idea.

Do I feel guilty for such a blatant display of a lack of trust as the one I presented last night? Yes. Am I glad I found what I found, rather than continue to just wonder? Yes.

What I found was not "The Ultimate Betrayal," not by a long shot. But it was enough to make me worry. (Not that it takes much to make me worry, but still.) So I confessed. And then we were both pissed. For what essentially boiled down to the same reason. We both apologized and promised to do better.

Relationships are hard. And I think we make them even harder by denying our spouses the right to the same feelings and thoughts we have, ourselves. I was terribly hurt by an admission of missing the care-free days of doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted--but how many times a day do I feel the same? I often feel that he'd rather be at work than be at home with us, but how many Sunday nights have I thought to myself, "thank God I get to go back to work tomorrow?"

Maybe we'd all be a lot happier if men were more willing to admit they have these feelings to us, and if we were more willing to acknowledge and accept them when they do. We expect them to accept it when we feel less than warm-and-fuzzy about our domestic lives--don't we owe them the same courtesy?

Yes. We do.

So I offer this public apology to my husband, who knows me better than anyone else, and who I love without reservation--I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sorry I went digging for answers instead of just asking you for them.

Still, the thought of my husband having a close female friend makes me sick to my stomach. I don't want him baring his soul to another woman any more than I would want him to bare his ass. (In fact, I'd probably prefer the ass-baring to the soul-baring.) I don't care if he has a plethora of friends he spends time sharing the most intimate of intimate details with--as long as they're male. Because I strongly doubt any of his male friends would take advantage of a difficult situation. Women will. My husband is a wonderful man and any woman would be lucky as hell to have him.

It's the other women that I worry about. Because, as I mentioned before, when you're doing something wrong, you always--at least in the beginning--believe you're right. It's okay if you're there for him, because his wife isn't. He needs someone to open up to, someone who understands him. She doesn't appreciate him. She's cold. She's too busy with her career. She wouldn't give him the opportunity to cheat if she really cared. She doesn't deserve him--I do.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to start throwing any stones. Like I said, I've been on both sides of that particular fence, and I don't care for the real estate one bit. I would never cheat on my husband, in any fashion. Period. And some who don't know us may find this incredibly naive, but I believe he won't ever cheat on me, either.

So back away from my man, bitches.

(I gotta quit watching "Flavor of Love.")