Multiple bedroom partners can be fun for most guys, and for a lot of men it is a way of life. That was my case back in the early 2000s. Yes much fun was had by all, but as time went on, that pleasure turned to real world pain—for those juggled by my infinite lust, and those battling for a true piece of my love, falling short, blocked by the wall of my lies.

Being a player is all fun and games. But for me, I am happy to be retired.

In 2004 my initial attempts to attract a particular woman, from the driver’s side of my bucket Honda as I drove the young lady home, were to no avail. Yet, about a month later, as I pulled up to our shared place of employment in a shiny, red Ford Mustang, the same woman who turned me down, jogged toward me confessing of a dream she had about me the previous evening.

I knew she just liked the car, but I really didn’t care. Had I known what was to follow our exchange of numbers, alternatives to exploring our mental and physical aspects would have been pondered. Foregoing any logical thought processes I dove into this situation head-on, disregarding her shallow view of life, and my girlfriend at the time.

My girlfriend caught me. She dumped me. We still saw one another continually however, ultimately leading to the birth of my son in 2006. Though I stopped seeing Mustang girl on the side, I continued my womanizing ways. Though I remained in my son’s life, the damage done to his mother’s emotional state has yet to be reversed or eased, and the relationship between my son and I lingers in the balance. She’s married and has a new child, yet, is still haunted by my infidelity, affecting the way we deal with one another regarding little Rodney. She decided to move to Tacoma, Washington when he was just 3 years old.

She had found someone new, I didn’t object. Although it was the guy I caught her cheating on me with. Now I struggle at times to keep heads clear, and disagreements to a minimum, which is easy since she blocked me from calling all of her phones.

Though I cannot solely blame our struggles at long distance co-parenting on my cheating or her cheating alone, the blame must be placed somewhere. Or, at least the reasoning can be explained, right? I don’t know why people cheat. I cheated because…it was easy and I was selfish. During the two-year span between our break-up and the birth of our son I attempted to be Richmond California’s Hugh Hefner.

Either shiny, red muscle cars are aphrodisiacs or I had a way with lowering women’s inhibitions. Or just maybe they had none. Parties almost every other day, coupled with a good job and a healthy appetite for alcohol led me into the bed with more beautiful women than I can almost remember.

I reminisce of the days, waking up at noon, putting on sunglasses staggering down stairs from an evening that saw me going to sleep at 6 a.m.—the seventh night in a row with a different sexual partner, thank God Trojan made Magnums.

Recalling some of the stories of mischief produce smiles and giggles of my early 20-something days. I had too much fun. No, it is not fair to say that my lying and cheating is an acceptable reason for the mother of my child to continue her disgust and mistrust in regards to my son, who I have never abandoned. It has been 5 years since our last attempt at a relationship and 10 years since I cheated.

But, if I could go back and hopefully avoid the struggles of attending college and working without making enough to fully support myself, I wouldn’t have cheated. If it meant the loss a few memories of lust in exchange for being able to call my son whenever I wanted to, I would ask for a lobotomy. Missing flag football, first and last days of school and the everyday growth of my “Lil One,” as I call him, hurts every time I want to call, or every time I do something I feel he would be proud of.

My great moments are clouded with his absence.

I would change everything I had ever done to lead to the divide of the relationship my son and I shared, whether it directly affected him or not.

I take the blame because I was not being honest with people. I was not being honest with myself, and though I did not intend for it, I was not being honest with my son. Staying in a relationship with his mother may not have been a great idea, who knows, we may not have been a good family.

Yet, had I not started the downward spiral that was our love life, maybe we could have worked things out eventually. What is for sure is that my cheating and womanizing definitely did not help the situation.