Looking back, I don’t regret cheating.  

You think that cheating is a man’s attempt to have it all but the reality is, it’s the desperate cry of someone who’s afraid of having nothing. I loved you and love you still, and in cheating I merely accepted the reality that I wasn’t good enough for you, not man enough to stand by your side and be the person to witness you fulfill your potential.  

Cheating was my way of saving you.  

Pushing you away from a man that could have stolen much more of your time, trying in vain to be someone he wasn’t ready to be yet. 

And don’t get me wrong, this is by no means a letter of excuse neither a note of apology. I know the heartbreak I caused. I know about the endless nights of crying. About how long it took you to trust a man again. How every time another man touched you, you’d flinch. And all the conscious effort you made to remove me from the minds of those that knew as a couple. It was hard and it was ugly but after I left I knew that if I stayed away long enough, that wonderful mind of yours would help you put the whole thing behind you. And you did.  

But nobody knows the story of the man who cheated. The man who crumbled under the weight of expectation and gave in to his mortality. A man that will forever carry the burden of hurting the only person he ever loved.  

His story is short. 

I’m no villain, I’m human. And I fell like humans do and have been dragging my knees in the mud trying to find the strength to stand up ever since. Unlike you, time works against me and instead of helping me erase you, it’s preserving you.  

I love you. I am sorry. I am trapped.