“I’ve never cheated before,” he proudly declared. Oh, well me neither, I said. But I’ve been cheated on ... I think?
One month later, the proud yes-man, the “I’ll try anything once” boy, the depressed self-sabotager, is gone. Permitted space was abused and turned into avoidance, and two months of wallowing as a ghosting victim and finding clues of cheating led me to the best decision. But he said he wasn’t unfaithful.
My question is, what is one more tear to your ego amidst a breakup? Why deny? He doesn’t know that I saw him getting a drink with a girl. Sigh.