I feel ashamed to admit it, but I really think that other girls might be able to relate. I’m not sure if it was because things were going too perfectly that I got a little bit bored or because it just felt nice to get attention from another guy. It was a different kind of attention, an undercover kind of attraction. It felt risky and made my heart race.
Two years ago, I was taking a summer Spanish class and that’s where I met the other guy. He was one of those mysterious-sexy kinds of guys; he played drums in an indie band and always picked me to team up with during partner activities. I told him I was in a relationship but he continued to compliment me on things that my boyfriend had just gotten used to I guess, after being together for so long.
We would hang out after class, and study together before quizzes. I liked talking to him but I felt kind of dirty afterwards. I don’t know how else to describe it. My boyfriend would ask why I was so late coming home from class and I’d tell him I was just doing homework with a group or going over a graded test. I never told him about the other guy because I knew he would be hurt and probably jealous.
Towards the end of the summer, my boyfriend went on a two-week family vacation to Europe. The other guy had become really persistent about the two of us hanging out together since our class was over. Now, I had no excuse not to.
I don’t know why but that night I tried on what seemed like hundreds of outfits before I settled on one that I thought made me look sexy but also low key. Why was I trying so hard to impress this guy when I already had a boyfriend of my own? At his house he had his whole band over for practice; the music was flowing and so were the drinks. He never left me alone and introduced me to all of his friends as “his girl.” I kind of liked it.Towards the end of the night, we ended up alone in his bedroom. I was sitting on his bed and he was on the couch across from me. I was feeling the drinks from earlier and I think he could tell that my guard was down. He moved nearer to me and put his hands on my knees.
His face inched closer and closer to mine, until they were less than a foot apart. I moved back onto the bed, with my weight on my elbows. I’m still not sure if I did it because I wanted to lay with him or to back away from him—but he assumed the former. He moved on top of me and pushed his head into the crook of my neck.
As soon as I felt his lips, wet and warm on my skin, I knew I had done something awful. What was I doing, alone with this guy in his room? His hands were moving across my skin leaving a trail of shame and discomfort on my body. I had to get out of there. I pushed him off of me, got up off of the bed and hurried towards the door. Without looking at his face I said, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” and walked out of the room.
I felt disgusted by myself, even though I had stopped everything before the situation got out of control. I knew that I would never cheat on my boyfriend. That heart-racing feeling that I felt when I talked to the other guy just wasn’t worth losing my boyfriend over. Not at all. I ended up telling my boyfriend everything when he got back from his trip. He was upset, as I knew he would be, but at least things hadn’t gone any further. Every once in a while I get a text from an unknown number in Spanish asking if I still have a boyfriend. I know it’s the other guy, but I never respond. I love my boyfriend and being with him is not something I ever want to gamble again.
Have you ever cheated on someone you were dating? What do you think about girls who cheat? What about guys who cheat? Tell me in the comments!
Would You Ever Forgive A Cheater?