Why Do We Stay?

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The first time it happened was on a cruise ship. We were seniors at two separate high schools, and our senior classes were taking their unofficial graduation trips together through the Atlantic Ocean. He chose to go. I chose not to. But I made him a mix tape so that he could have me there in spirit, one with great classic rock songs that would come back to bite me, like Love the One You’re With. It turns out he did (love the one he was with).

It seemed like a defining moment, and, for my definition, I chose what I always had when it came to being in relation to someone else: Calm, rational, good, nice, forgiving. If I broke up with him, I reasoned, then I would simply be allowing him to make me a different person—a vengeful, jealous person, maybe, and that’s not who I was. So I called the girl and said that I wouldn’t make things awkward, the issue was between me and him. At school, I walked past her with my head high, said hello like I always had because to vilify her over him in this matter was contrary to my sense of justice. I listened to his teary pleas, challenged him some, said it would be hard for him to earn my trust again but we could try.

A month later, I decided on a college. I had received an acceptance to the school where he enrolled, but I had no desire to follow a boy. I chose elsewhere, and we decided to see how long distance worked. That summer, I found out he hadn’t swapped spit with just one girl on that cruise. But I had already forgiven him the one, how the hell could I hold this new old news against him? I fussed a bit; I made motions; I stayed.

­ That fall, it kept happening. He’d kiss a girl here, another there. It’s what he did. What I did was figure out how to appear firm while still being nice. I cloaked firm and nice in the package of seeing other people at school and each other back at home. Meanwhile, I was the friend that my friends came to with their troubles. I was a good listener, and I was always clear.

“You deserve more,” I would tell these women that I loved. And I meant it. I wanted to see them honor their right to be fully cared for—by themselves and by whomever they let into their hearts.