I did something that I can't wrap my mind around. I don't know how much of a monster I am. I suspected my girlfriend is not faithful or doesn't love me. I just moved from my country to her's so we can be together. This was my second week here, and i only saw her twice. Both times she was distant, cold, she didn't say a word of affection, let alone physical affection. One day she let me sleep at her place. She woke up early and went to work. I decided I can't take this anymore, and read her diary. I knew that whatever I find there, this relationship is probably over anyways, so at least I come out finally knowing what the hell happened. She described she brought her male, married friend to her bed, where they cuddled and ordered sushi. He told her he found her sexy, incredible, she was everything he wanted. She wrote the physical connection was unbelievable. She wrote their love was amazing. She saw the pain in his eyes, for the love was real. But it was an impossible, unlikely, yet amazing love. And in the next paragraph she wrote, about me, I don't feel love towards him anymore. I can't describe the pain this text brought to me. At the time of her writing these words, I was packing my things in my home country, saying goodbye to my family, and getting on a plane for her. I believed I will never be able to be with her, never be able to forgive her. I felt like a victim. And I felt like the guy's wife is a victim too, like me. She is pregnant with his child, while he is lost in love for my girlfriend. So I took a picture of this text, and spent a frantic effort at locating her facebook profile. I ravaged through her documents in hopes of finding his last name. In the meantime I ran into postcards he sent her. Love words. Promises. I wasn't phased, I already knew I am a second fiddle to a greater love story. I managed to find her facebook profile, and sent it to her. I felt good. I felt I did the right thing. I couldn't wait for her to read. I thought I will never see my girlfriend again and it felt right that she and her friend pay for what they've done to people who entrusted their lives in their hands. I thought I exacted a just revenge. Later that day a friend of mine suggested I confront her one last time, just to see what she has to say. As a practice for myself. I agreed. I told him, there is nothing she can say to change my mind, but I'll do it anyways. She denied at first that there's anyone else. I pushed. I said specific things. She confessed to cuddling with him, and said that she didn't think I didn't know (she told in the past they have a special bond, that's it). That it was harmless. I pushed. I asked her if he loves her. She said she doesn't know. I pushed. I asked her, if you had to guess? She said yes, I think he loves me. I told her, then you cheated on me. It's over. She broke down. She cried. She said yes, you're right, I know I did something wrong, but you have to believe me that while I did something wrong my intentions were not wrong. I want you, I don't want him. She begged for forgiveness. I pushed. I asked, do you have feelings for him? She said NO DEFINITELY NOT. NONE. Then, I revealed to her that I read the diary, and that the diary says she loved him. She said the diary was a fantasy. A coping mechanism. I write in it when I'm in an emotional vortex. It does not relate to real life. I knew what I felt was not true when I wrote it. I asked, will you break contact with him? She said YES without hesitation. I said, the diary says you don't love me. She said IT DOESN'T SAY THAT. It says I don't feel love towards you. Because I'm traumatized. I know i love you, but I don't feel it sometimes, and I'm working hard to feel it. This conversation lasted around two hours. During which I grew to believe her that the text was not reality, then she did love me. that she had a coping mechanism she was ashamed to reveal, but wanted me to reveal, and was willing to end unconditionally. She left the diary for me to find. But I already incriminated her. I put her secrets online. I couldn't undo what I did. And I was afraid to admit to her. I petitioned to the image site that hosted the picture to remove the image and I hoped they will do it on time. They did not. It's still online, 2 days since I uploaded it. At least it is not shared publicly. I wrote the wife, listen, I talked with her and she convinced me this text is a fantasy. I think they just hugged a bit in bed and nothing more. I am convinced enough that they did not really cheat that I am willing to give her another try. I leave the decision of what to do with this information in your hands. But I ask that you please don't reveal that I sent you this. I ask this as a favor. We spent a beautiful evening together, an evening of forgiveness. She was grateful to be with me. We loved again. We promised to be honest to each other. But I didn't admit to her my one last secret. I actually didn't think that it's something I must do immediately, I thought I can roll it in my mind and admit it when I'm ready. I believed that the wife still has a right to know, and I believed the image will be removed before she sees it and that the depth of the deceit will not be revealed. I also believed there's a good chance the wife will not even see I sent her a message, or that she will read it and respect my request for anonymity. The next day I wrote my girlfriend in an email what I did. Even though I believed I have a chance to get away with it, I decided to admit it. But I omitted that I sent an actual image of the diary. I just said I described what was written. She fell apart. She said that I have destroyed her career, and this woman's life, and her friend's life. That I don't know the context. I don't know anything about what they were going through. I said, at the time I believed what you wrote was the truth. And you did indeed in bed cuddle. And he does indeed love you. And what this guy did to his wife is disgusting. He's been been at it for 5 years. But I understand it wasn't for me to make the call, and I did it when I was traumatized, and I felt like we're both victims. But I am working on minimizing the damage. She will only know you cuddled. She will not know more. I was of course, hoping against hope that the image will be removed before the message was read. No. The message was read, the full story came out. I don't know what the consequences are for the wife and her husband. But my girlfriend said that no one has ever betrayed her trust like I did. That she can't believe I would be the person who would do the worst thing anyone has ever done to her. That my lies about the content of the message were disgusting. You don't deserve my love. We are NOT partners. I said "you're right. You're doing the right thing. I have no defense". She hung up. I called back. I said "I don't deserve it. I don't. But I have to ask. Is there a way for me to not lose you?". She said "You always act before you process. You accuse me before asking me. You never let me explain myself. You demand honesty from me but you cannot stop lying. This time you will process. Do not contact me until you understood what happened. If you contact me in less than a week, it is over." And hung up. I spent the rest of the day in a state of shock. I can't believe what happened. I can't believe I did something so horrible. I can't believe I am the worst thing that happened to the only person I ever loved. i can't believe how RIGHT IT FELT. How can I deserve anyone's trust when I think the worst thing I will ever do in my life is RIGHT? Even for a second, let alone an entire day? How can I expect her to give me a second chance when I had to have a friend convince me to to give her even a chance to explain herself before I decided to destroy her? And how could I keep the web of lies to the very very end? How couldn't I make even a single right choice here? Why am I so broken? I don't feel I deserve her forgiveness. I don't feel I deserve her love. I don't feel I deserve my own forgiveness. I hate myself so much. I seriously don't know how I can get over this. I feel that my life is split. i feel I don't know who I am. I feel like I've always been a monster and never admitted it. I feel I deserve to suffer for a while and then die. I don't know how I will react if she will agree to give me another chance. I'm afraid I'll tell her that she must be joking. I don't know if I can ever be with her without feeling shame. I have suicidal thoughts running around my head. I look at the third floor of my office and wonder if the fall would guarantee a kill. I look at passing trucks and think how freeing it would be to jump. I hope the guy will show at my place and shoot me. I will say thank you if he did, saved me the dilemma. It's easier to die when someone else does it. I don't believe I deserve to distract myself with entertainment. I don't know anyone I can tell this to without losing their respect. My family is far away. I can't do this over the phone. I have no access to therapy in this country. I want to close my eyes, and let 100 years pass me by, so when I wake up all the evil I exacted will be dust, and a lifetime of deserved isolation and self loathing will be a foggy memory. Maybe I could look in the mirror without a monster staring back, once would be enough. I would look into my eyes and say "I forgive you now". Isn't this the same as wishing to die? What else is left for me? If I didn't know that dying would be the only betrayal worse than what I already did, I don't know if I would've been alive right now. Rereading this, I feel like it can't be right. I couldn't have done this. It's a sick fantasy. But no. I created this reality. Through selfishness. Fear. Cowardice. Avoidance of responsibility. The only human act I can do is learn to live in this reality I created. This is day 1. It's going to be either a short life or a long life.