Infidelity is a coping mechanism. Everything else is a story.
As much as I practice suiting up and showing up there is still a melancholy that follows me like dirt off Charles Schulz’s Pigpen.
I finally had enough and recognized how idiot compassion for Painter was an obstacle to my growth and moving forward in my life.
It would be great if I could simply not do it again. If the wounds, trauma, pain, and anxiety hiding behind infidelity would simply go away. Disappear as if they never existed or as if they belonged to someone else.