this is the beginning of the story...

I sit here before my macbook laptop, crying. This is the first time that I have cried in months. And I don't even really fully know why I am crying. I just spoke to my most recent ex on the phone, him trying to tell me what an amazing person that I am, and all I know is that I am an asshole. And until about five minutes ago, I accepted that. I never understood my impulses, nor really cared who or what they affected. As long as I felt rightous in my choice at that exact moment, who gives a fuck really? But maybe, just maybe if someone else knew my story, the way that I do... they could help me understand. And thats why I am sitting in front of my Macbook laptop, crying.

In all fairness, the tears have stopped now. Because as I gingerly caress the keyboard, I already know that this will help.

I guess I should start at the beginning, its really the only place to start. I lost my virginity when I was 15. I was head over heals for that boy. But I never loved him. I didn't even think that I loved him. When he cheated on me the first time, I didn't even care. I broke up with him, of course. I had to save face at school, you see. But no one was really surprised when we got back together a week later. It wasn't until after the sixth time that he cheated, on my 16th birthday, that I met the next man of my dreams. I spent the following month cheating, emotionally, on my boyfriend by beginning to not be head over heals for him... and focusing all my attention on the next potential boyfriend. When that one kissed me, I promptly broke up with the first and never looked back on him.
That was six years ago.
That "boy" still tells me every single time he sees me that he loves me. And he regrets every mistake he made. And he has asked me, "Please don't punish me for the mistakes I made as a boy, now that I am a man."
But what he doesn't seem to understand is that our breakup had very little to do with the fact that he cheated... and everything to do with the fact that I met someone new.