Infidelity. The word pierces my soul. My stomach ties into a knot, my mind goes blank, my heart aches. I run from this word. I rarely let myself look at it. Even as I write I want to abandon this endeavor. What’s the sense in salting an old wound? 

It is a deep wound. The word makes me feel scared and small. I am a child who hurt himself trying to be big and tall. I don’t know what it means to be a man. I have been unfaithful just to prove to myself I can. Now I wonder whether I will ever love. 

I am in the wrong, and still I only dwell on my own pain. Perhaps I don’t care enough to consider the misery I have caused. Perhaps I am too afraid to begin. I resign to stay far, far away. If I ever loved her at all I must leave her alone. In the end I told her the truth. I ought to leave the rest to the Lord.

I wonder whether I am poison. Love blossoms, I wither it to its roots. And then I wonder if love was ever really there. I cannot understand what drives me to maim my relationships for the covetous thrill of possessing what I ought not have. There is deep darkness in my heart. 

I feel like a fraud. I have prayed for strength and purity. I have brought my fear and frailty to the Lord. Yet over and over again, I have let myself be lured astray. Do I really desire what I am praying for, then? Is there any sincerity in my heart at all? Do I seem to seek Him simply so I can feel better about myself? 

I don’t know what else to do. I cannot make my heart pure. I cannot purge myself of insincere intentions. If my desire for purity be shallow then I am blind to it, for it feels so deeply desperate to me. But if this is true then why have I consistently chosen to cheat? I am at war with myself. 

I don’t like to stay still, because all of this comes to surface. I am unable to stay afloat without drowning in shame. Always running, never satisfied. I buried all of this for so long by staying high. I don’t want to hide anymore. 

I have done what I have done. Am I surprised at my sin? Can I expect anything else from myself, apart from God’s grace? The self-hatred and shame I feel is, in truth, prideful. The enemy wants me to feel wicked, worthless, and alone. 

I accept that I do not understand. I admit that I am afraid of myself, and afraid of intimacy. I trust the Lord’s mercy, for His ways are not my ways. Above all, I ask that He give His perfect, faithful love to those that I have failed to love faithfully.