I cheated on my partner, and I don’t know if I regret it or not.

It happened once. No drama, no wild affair. Just a moment where the line blurred, and I crossed it.

We were going through a rough patch. Lots of fights, silence, and feeling like roommates more than a couple. I met someone new — nothing planned, it just… happened. The attention, the comfort, the feeling of being seen again. It was stupid, but it felt nice in that moment.

Afterwards, I didn’t feel guilt the way I thought I would. I felt… confused. I still love my partner. I do. But a part of me wonders if love is supposed to feel this stuck. This dull.

I haven’t told them. I probably never will. Not because I want to lie forever, but because I don’t think one mistake defines the whole relationship. At least I hope it doesn’t.

I’m not proud of it. But I’m not falling apart either. Just sitting with it, quietly.