Every time I step on the treadmill, Beyoncé’s “Sorry” and “Hold Up” are always, always at the top of my playlist. The imaginary anger I feel towards the imaginary boyfriend or husband over an imaginary infidelity definitely puts a non imaginary fuel in me to run like I stole something. With having trust issues on fleek, I avoided dating for most of my life to simply avoid being cheated on, or as I have forbid and may god forbid, be the cheater. I was so caught up in the fear of falling victim to being with someone who can’t keep it in his pants that I didn’t even realize that there was one more role that I never, ever wanted to play: The Side Chick.
The road to the role that I never auditioned to play started back in June. I was at a time in my life where I genuinely wanted party it up and really enjoy being single. I was definitely not looking for anything serious, I just wanted to kick it and have fun. But you know what they say, be careful what you wish for ’cause you might just get it. Or, when you ask for something, be specific. Maybe I should have been more specific and asked for someone who wasn’t secretly in a one year, long distance relationship with a poor girl that probably had no clue that his boyfriend has been running around town, kicking it with some other chick. But by saying “maybe I should have” done this or that will just result to me helping him carry the guilt that he should be carrying on his own, and I’m not dumb enough to do that.
So, back to the story. I met this boy, let’s call him Aaron (like, Aaron’t you supposed to be talking to your girlfriend right now?). I met Aaron at a party. Right off the bat, I could tell that he was interested despite the fact that he was too shy to strike up a conversation and in time couldn’t muster up the courage to really ask me out. He would invite me to a few things with our mutual friends to play it safe but couldn’t take the initiative to hang out with me alone. And to be honest, I’ve always liked the nice guys, which made me want to celebrate being single with him even more. So, eventually, it started.
It was fun chilling with Aaron. We ate a lot, drank a lot, drove around, and had really good conversations that were never shallow at all. I thought I found a pretty good one for now.
Looking back, there was simply no telling that Aaron was a cheater slash fuckboy. For the short time that we were seeing each other, there were absolutely no red flags, at least that I could see. He was a nice guy, a proper gentleman, never took advantage of me despite being downright wasted every time he brought me home late at night, and that was literally 100% of time, the shy and quiet one in his group of friends, loved his momma, worked towards his goals, and would even say things like if he was anxious and up at night, he would just pray. Lmao, give me a break.
It’s only been a couple of months since I faded away and decided to stop seeing him after things got weird (or normal? We’ll talk about intimacy issues another time). And at first, I felt really bad by pretending I didn’t exist on the face of the Earth anymore just because a little bit of hand holding and cuddling signaled me to RUN, bitch! Like I said, I wasn’t looking for anything serious and he definitely knew that I just wanted to have fun. And I even let him know about something that was going on with me and another person at the time. So, yeah, I did feel a little bad since between the both of us, someone clearly liked one more than the other.
When some random dude recently told me that his friend, the guy who I was previously seeing, is “kind of a hoe” and that he’s been in a fucking relationship for a about a year now, I was just like “WOOOOOOW”. And I didn’t mean “wow” in amazement, but more of like “WOOOOW, you’re a dick!” Like, daaaamn, boy! You. Are. A. Dick. Like, is your name Richard? ‘Cause you Dick! Yeah, I was really fucking pissed. Pissed at him and pissed at our side chick and side dick generation that just plain promotes and normalizes cheating.
On one hand, I felt a big weight lifted off of my shoulders because now I don’t have to feel bad or sorry for his lying ass.
On the other hand, even though I feel this sense of relief, I still can’t help but think about his girlfriend that he’s been playing while she’s probably waiting for him miles away, and I’m sure that she doesn’t even have a clue that her boyfriend is a cheating scum. I also can’t help but think about me falling into playing a part in one of the things that I clearly fear the most. It just fucking sucks.
So Aaron, the next time you try to go for another girl, maybe you should be a real man and break up with your fucking girlfriend first. Not because I give a shit about you or your infidelity escapades, but because she doesn’t deserve this. She deserves so much better. Seriously, man the fuck up.
PS: Your ass is so lucky that I have no clue who your girl is and that I don’t even know what country she’s in.
Because if I did, I would seriously have no problem sending her a link to this article. And honey, I have receipts.