The other day, I was having a conversation with my partner and she asked me what I would do if she cheated. I told her, nothing. I would not fight, nor would I shout. I would simply live in the understanding that she had acted out a possibility I had always known existed.
To love someone is to accept, from the very beginning, that they possess the capacity to betray you. Fidelity is never guaranteed; it is a choice made and remade in private, day after day, until one day it is no longer made at all. And when that happens, all that remains is the sober recognition that the person has revealed a truth about themselves and, perhaps, about the relationship itself.
That would be the end of us, of course. She would move on with her life, and I with mine. Cheating is unforgivable to me, but it is not something I would lose sleep over. Surprise has no place in my understanding of love. Pain, certainly. Disappointment, perhaps. But never surprise.
A certain gent got cooked on here for saying that financially empowering women is a waste of resources cause they always want a provider, not saying I agree, but damn 💀