To Cheat or Too Cheesy?

I'm thinking about COE's question the other night. And I think the answer is not that one cheats because something is not right or that something is missing in a relationship. One cheats because one doesn't choose not to.

Something is always not right. Something is always missing. There is always something askew. Something more intriguing out there. Something mysterious and hot and bothersome and more sexually appealing than one's own mate at the moment--no matter how deep the bond, how beautiful the children, how happy the home.

I've been there. Cheated on a husband. Hurt people. Deeply, badly. Wrote it off with: something was not right (Do you remember the french nun in the Madeline cartoons? I'm picturing her running down several flights of stairs to catch a cheating wife and her lover in the deep passionate throws of an "a-f-f-a-i-r").

But that is not it. It is not that complex. One only cheats because one doesn't choose not to cheat. That's all.

My dad once told me you don't sort of lie. If you lie a little, you are a liar. Choose carefully. Lie or don't lie.

I don't find myself having any more or less reasons to cheat on my husband and our less than perfect lives than I did with my first. There is no big difference in the relationship. No magic soulmate bond that is guaranteed to keep me true forever. I used to think: I cheated because we weren't right for each other. Something wasn't right. Something was missing. I wanted something more.

Nah. I just cheated. I lied a little bit. I didn't choose not to. I do now.

Choose not to, that is.