Ashley Madison’s Revelation

Cheating is stupid.

Cheating on people that have the know-how and the motivation to find what they need to find (ie: nerds – particularly the hacker kind) takes the word “stupid” to a whole other level.

And the people that made profiles on Ashley Madison… a site that bases its money, its reputation, its livelihood on selling extramarital affairs?  Well… let’s just say that, in my opinion, they got what they deserved.

Because cheating… no matter the circumstance… is never okay.  “What about the people in open relationships?” you may ask.  Well, if they are open to begin with and both parties agree to that openness, then you can’t call that “cheating.”

Cheating is done willfully, for many motivations, but, no matter how you spin it, it grows out of ego… out of selfishness… out of an inability to consider the other person in the relationship, and to put their needs, their feelings above your own.

And if it’s retaliatory cheating?  It’s still not an excuse – because cheating is something you don’t EVER have to tolerate.  You can just leave the relationship… Leaving solves a lot of problems in that instance: the spouse/significant other that was cheating is no longer cheating, you don’t have to deal with their selfish ass anymore – not to mention you’ve opted out of all of the suspicion and drama you’d probably deal with after you “worked it out.” And, of course, there’s the knowledge that, if you find someone else you want to date, you can do so freely – without the constraints of another relationship, without worrying about the lies, and the sneaking around, and the bullshit that is inevitably associated with something that is dishonest.

So I didn’t feel sorry for the people that had all of their information published.  Why should I?  I do not cheat.  Even when I was in a marriage that was completely and totally useless, I never cheated.  And if I find out that someone has cheated on me?  I fucking leave.  End of story.

Still… I have a lot of exes.  And there’s been some suspected infidelity involved with those exes (theirs, not mine). I got a little curious… and I tried to get my hands on that list.  Or, at least, a way to filter through that 10 gigs of data, because even I don’t have that much spare time or inclination to look at EVERYONE’S names (though admittedly, that would have been a wealth of blog fodder to go on for the next five years).

When I finally found a search engine that would let me find users by the email addresses they used to subscribe, I knew which address I wanted to run first.  Botboy’s.  I can’t say why… I can’t even say that I was going to be surprised if it did.  Because if any of my exes had a profile up there, I knew it would have been him.  And something in me knew exactly which of his many email addresses he’d use if he were going to sign up for that site…

And on my first try, I got a hit.  Photo attached for those of you that need proof – or as much proof as I’m willing to give.  You’ll have to trust me here.

nebedit

Now… like the site says, I can’t prove that he signed up for this (perhaps it’s not him at all).  I can’t even prove that if this really is him, he signed up for this when he and I were talking… this could be a holdover from his prior marriages for all I know.  Or it could have happened long after I left Tampa.  But that’s not the point.  The point is that this speaks volumes about his character.

And, as I also predicted, I wasn’t surprised.  I laughed, actually.  And when Ormsby asked me who that email address belonged to, I told him.  And he laughed too.

Because, you see, I made a decision over a year ago now based on one conversation in a parking lot that I had with Ormsby.  It was June 2014, and I was getting on a plane to go back to Tampa.  Ormsby and I had spent that weekend together and, not wanting to leave him hanging… the way that so many of my predecessors had, I asked him what he wanted me to do about it.  I gave him the option, you see, of having me… of foregoing the “waiting” that I was doing for a (or so I thought) deployed Botboy.

Rather than take what I was offering, Ormsby said the thing that set him apart from any other person I have ever dated: that he didn’t want to do anything, or make any decisions, as long as I was waiting for Botboy… that he could not do that to someone that was in his position.

And as I sat there on the plane, heading home, back to work, back to waiting for Botboy, I realized something: Ormsby was the better man.  Because what he’d said, what he’d done for Botboy – a man he didn’t even know… a man that, truthfully, didn’t even deserve that kind of consideration… that is something Botboy would NEVER have done for him if the tables had been turned.

This Ashley Madison revelation… it was further proof of what I already knew.  And now that that’s all behind me, I didn’t really NEED the proof.  I already HAD the proof – a year and a half of waiting for absolutely nothing, of being left hanging, of being, in essence, the fallback girl… that was all the proof I really needed.  And even though the Botboy chapter has, in all honesty, been closed ever since I chose to fly up to Louisville in July of 2014 to save Ormsby instead of waiting for the Botboy, who was due back in town at any moment, it still felt good to see the confirmation, in all its glory, on a computer screen.

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