What about cheating?

I just got back from seeing The Last Kiss with Zach Braff, one of those movies that brings up all sorts of questions that you don't really want to think about. Hence, here comes another pensive post.

The movie deals with relationships--marriages of both young and old, ones with children involved, serious dating relationships...all of which are moving through some sort of crisis. Braff's character finds himself tempted to cheat on his girlfriend, who will soon also be the mother of his kid. Watching, I found myself hoping for certain outcomes for each of the characters--all of which forced me to deal with the movie's central question: what about cheating? At what point do you define "crossing" that line, and which lines are forgivable, and can you ever forgive or should you forgive?

As one of the few 20 years olds that I know who actually thinks that she's ready to get married, I know what a scary thing it is that I'm claiming. Am I really ready to be married? And if I'm just kidding myself on this whole maturity thing that I think I see in me, when will I really be "grown up" enough to make that kind of commitment? I've never been impressed enough by a guy to let him have more than two months, and lately two dates. I can't even stick to a hair color. I've never been in love or let someone get close enough to hurt me, so I don't know how I'm supposed to make that jump into "till death do us part." And the closest I know to cheating, was my sophomore year of high school, when my boyfriend cheated on me with one of my best friends. At that point in the relationship though, I was already over it anyway--I knew a week beforehand that it was over, so when he actually broke up with me, I didn't cry. I didn't care. But what you sign up for in a real relationship, and what you bind yourself into, under God, the state, and everyone else, when you get married, is a lot of pain along with the good. The moment you let someone in, you make a choice to be vulnerable--and a choice to allow that person to hurt you in the deepest ways. Loving someone is allowing them to hurt you, and hoping that they won't. But they will.

So many people, myself included, want to be perfect--or at least perfect for someone out there. But the reality is, I won't ever be even adequate for someone else. And if I get married, he's going to get bored with me or annoyed or something...and he'll start looking elsewhere. There's a part of me that thinks that I'm going to somehow beat this by being whatever it is that all of those women who get cheated on aren't--as if it was something that they didn't do enough of, or something they did too much, that made their man cheat. I have to figure these things out so that I can keep him so happy that he wouldn't even consider looking elsewhere. The truth that I don't want to consider is that it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't be enough. Which I'm sure isn't going to feel so great. Still, I feel like I'll be able to get through that kind of hurt. I may not understand exactly what it would mean to be cheated on in a real way, but I do know a thing or two about pain, and I think I'll be able to forgive. Sure, it's going to be really hard to heal my damaged pride and broken heart, but I've done it before. I know hurt, and I know where to take it, how to find healing.

The kind of hurt that I'm more scared of is the pain that comes if he's not the one in the relationship who screws it up. What if I do somehow end up with this incredible man that I think I'm looking for--and what if he is faithful enough to say no every single time that he's tempted? How do you come to someone so good...and tell him that you've done something so cruel? My morbid side uses this as a motivation to stay away from any guy with a shred of decency--as if I'm going to ruin him or something. That part's scary.

So now I start to wonder if getting married would just be selfish of me. I would be willing to marry a man that I loved, even if you were to tell me that he would cheat on me in the future. But if you were to let me know that I would cheat on him, I wouldn't be able to do go through with the marriage. I guess that's why it's good that I don't know the future, so I don't preemptively cop-out.

I still think marriage is going to be worth it. Despite all the ways it can and will go wrong, I think it's worth it to try. These are the kinds of hard times that I want to grow through. Like all the cliche's say, it's those bad times that make the good ones so sweet, and it's better to have lots of pain and the opportunity for joy than lead a safe, but boring life. Maybe marriage really isn't natural--something out of whack with our animalistic side--but I think it's a commitment worth making. And when I get to the point where I think I want out, where it's boring or annoying, I hope to God that I push through it--that He'll give me the strength to hold on to what I promised. Maybe part of the joy comes in knowing what it's like to suffer through the hard stuff and come out again on the other side. After 20 or 30 or 50 years together, you really understand the beauty of the sun, and it's something the two of you share because you discovered it together. Maybe that's worth it.