High Fidelity

Fidelity is really damn hard. It might be impossible, if one is to be completely honest.

Now, don't jump to conclusions here. This isn't a confession. Since puberty, I have existed as a sort of serial monogamist, jumping from one exclusive relationship to the next until finally striking the perfect chord almost a decade ago. In all those relationships, I never cheated. There were a couple of regrettable instances in which I was the other guy (knowingly, both times, I'm ashamed to admit), but I have never cheated on anyone. And while it's true I am a faithful sort of guy, I'm also pretty lazy. Illicit relationships seem like so much work. There's cover stories and sneaking around and finding ways to hide the expense of hotel rooms and dry cleaning (how else do you get lipstick stains and foreign perfume out of a shirt?).

Of course, I've never really been tested. Sure, I'd like to be able to say without pause that I would never be that guy. I'd love to be able to take the moral high ground and look down into the valley of amorality and sneer. I truly do believe that I am the guy who would smile kindly and gracefully brush off a proposition, all the while sparing the feelings of the one doing the propositioning, thereby making her go off into the night shaking her head in wonder at the fact that there really are good guys out there and maybe, just maybe she can meet a guy just like me one of these days. But the truth is, I've never been in the position to find out what would happen if a strange blonde slipped her room key into my pocket in a hotel bar while on a business trip. All I can say is that I adore (almost to the point of worship) my wife. I don't keep secrets from her and (as far as I know) she doesn't keep secrets from me. I just can't see risking something as right and perfect as what we share for a momentary taste of some strange, you know?

"But wait just one minute," you ask yourself. "He's making it sound so easy. I thought he said infidelity was nearly impossible back before this thing degenerated into a sappy love letter to his wife."

It's true. I don't think it's possible to make it through a lifetime alongside someone and expect them to stay true in heart, body, and mind 100% of the time, forever and ever, amen. When infidelity is in the heart, the relationship is done. Game over. Time to call the lawyer and dust off the prenup. When the act of infidelity is of the body, it could go 50/50. I've known couples who have been able to work through the fallout of one or the other gettin' down wit' OPP (know what I mean?). Just about as many crumble and fall apart after such an indiscretion.

Then there's the mind. When it comes to infidelity of the mind, every couple writes their own rules. There are women who get bent if their man's eyes linger on the hottie in the low-cut dress passing them as they walk through the mall (and god help you, man, if you're with one of these chicks). There are women who draw the line just short of (or just past) nudie magazines. There are those who really don't care if you go get a lapdance at a club with the guys, just so long as you bring it on home at the end of the night and stay out of the champagne room. What I'm getting at here is that every man has the impulse to look at the girl in the mall or check out the girl on the cover of Cosmo while at the checkout or pick up a copy of Playboy or hit that porn site or go to the titty bar or etc. etc. Any of these can be a tiny infidelity of the mind. Face it, if you're mentally undressing Jessica Alba, you're head's not being 100% faithful to the lovely lady holding your hand in the theatre. Here's where the line gets drawn, though. Is it cheating?

I don't really think so. But then, that's me. I'm confident that my wife is well aware of just about all of the women I ogle, but she knows my heart never strays (and so far, neither has my body). I don't really try to be all that sly about it, either. She knows I'm going to curl up beside her every night. She should realize by now that whatever spell she wove over me nine and a half years ago is still binding. I'm sure she noticed the pool of sweat in my palm during that sex scene in Watchmen (and good lord, I feel sorry for every boyfriend Malin Akerman ever had after seeing that scene -- can you imagine the implications to your own ego when coming to the realization that your ex could fake an orgasm that convincingly?).

But I digress. The way I see it, the bottom line is that it can be qualified as cheating when you cover and obfuscate whatever weird shit you're up to, solely because you know it will hurt the person you're with if he or she were to find out. If you don't tell her you were checking out youtube videos of cows fucking because you're embarrassed that you were watching cows fuck, I don't think that's cheating. I think that's just good sense. She'd probably only come to be a little bit scared of you. Face it, you're a fucking weirdo. In fact, maybe someone should let her know what a sicko she's sharing a bed with. On the other hand, if you're deleting your cache file because you harbor a burning desire to be the bull, you might just be cheating.

You wanna know what it all boils down to? Communication. I know it's becoming something of a theme on this forum, but I think it's true. When a couple loses the lines of communication, things start to crumble. Talk. Ladies, let him know when something bothers you. Have the damn conversation. It doesn't have to be an intervention. Just mention over the dinner table that you noticed www.banginbessie.com in the history on the computer, and it bothers you that he's looking at it. Have a conversation. Speak up and talk about setting some boundaries. The two of you might discover some common salacious interests, which can always be fun. Guys? Check what's in your heart. That's where it really counts. And dude, seriously, try to keep it in your pants.