More and more I'm thinking "man" was not meant to be owned by another. I don't mean that we're not supposed to love and care for each other, but the whole couplehood thing is beginning to look more and more like a failed experiment. Like maybe, genetically, we were meant to have multiple partners.
Look around you: our politicians, our dramas. our comedies, our friends and neighbors. Infidelity is everywhere, and has been for a long, long time. And while it's still trendy to hide one's infidelities, I'm not sure how long even that will be in vogue.
Yeah, can't help thinking about the Clinton/Lewinsky "scandal" and how that played out, how most of us, at least in the non-I-hate-Clinton-with-a-passion Republican camp, weren't all that bent out of shape about it. It happens. It's private. It's life, we said.
And then there were the holier-than-though politicians whose tender sensibilities were torched by the whole ordeal, only to find out that they were doing the same thing. Or worse.
Americans accepted that, too.
And we continue to watch our movies and sing our songs and read dramatic fictions that bombard us with infidelities, that seduce us with last minute breakups because the RIGHT person finally came along, or woke up, or dropped down from the heavens so we could root from them getting together despite the ring, despite the 4-layer frosted cake, and all those wedding-registry gifts that will have to be returned.
Because the right one, the next one, is always greener.
I'm not promoting a poly-amorous lifestyle. I'm not promoting infedility. I'm not saying that by remaining faithful, you're missing out. Because infidelity doesn't work in my opinion.
But not because it isn't right for us. It may very well be. It may be that other thing in our jeans.
Unfortunately, society makes it difficult. It tells us not to, tells us it's morally wrong. Says we shouldn't, then winks and holds a finger to its lips. It shows us pictures of how much better life could be. Drops us into a field of fragrant flowers and dares us to find our way out. See how fulfilling, how hot, how incredibly cool infidelity really is?
And maybe it is. Until society catches you. Until it removes the finger from its lips and reminds you to do what it says, not what it does, that it is not your role model. And everything comes gleefully, accusatorily crashing down around you, and there's hell to pay, hell to pay for that little bit of heaven.
And you're sorry and remorseful and a better person on the other side.
Until you do it again.
Who wants to go to heaven anyway?