It hurt. I tried not to show it, but it did. I pretended not to notice, but I always knew when you’d been with him.

I turned a blind eye, for the sake of what we had together. Hoping against hope that one day you would settle for what you had, learn to accept and appreciate me for who I was, not hold against me whom I could never be. To no avail.

I saw those smiles, which you pretended were for me, but were, in truth, memories of your time with him. I came to accept that when we were at our most intimate physically, that mentally you were with him.

I tried.

For 16 long years I stuck to my vows, forsaking all others while you constantly forsook me.

I bottled the pain, learned to live with the torment.

Then, one day, I cheated too.

Not for revenge, not to spite, never to hurt you. I let myself be lead astray in a time of weakness; allowed myself a crumb of comfort.

It was a comfort that caused me more pain. I had betrayed myself far more than I had betrayed you.

More than a decade has passed, and I still bear those scars. Time does not heal, only provides a veneer of concealment.

I am still that man. I always will be.