Meeting Donald at church marked the beginning of a story I never thought I'd live. At first, I didn't pay much attention to him. He wasn't exactly my physical type, but he had an undeniable charm that began to chip away at my indifference. It took just one Sunday for him to approach me persistently, making sure to be there after the third service every week.

Then, one fateful Sunday, he took the opportunity to offer me a ride home, a gesture I very reluctantly accepted. As he parked his car near my house, he initiated a conversation and that conversation with him changed everything.  The more we spoke, the more I realized that, despite not being my physical ideal, he possessed a sharp intellect and wit that I couldn't help but admire. Slowly, I started to get  attracted to him, and we soon found ourselves moving from acquaintances to dating, setting the stage for what would later prove to be a rollercoaster of emotions.

Our relationship deepened, and despite my initial reservations, I couldn't help but fall in love with him. The bond we shared felt special and unique, a connection that went beyond the superficial aspects of attraction. However, as we became more intimate and shared deeper parts of our lives, Donald dropped a bombshell on me.

In a candid and vulnerable moment, he confessed that he was a virgin. His decision to abstain from sexual activity was driven by his deep faith and the belief that he should save himself for the woman that God had chosen for him. I was stunned by his revelation, not because of his virginity, but because it was a part of his commitment to his faith that I hadn't fully grasped before. It was then that, out of my own insecurities and a desire to keep his connection alive, I made a decision that would haunt me for years.

In the heat of that emotional exchange, I felt compelled to respond that I also had zero sexual experience. In a moment of weakness, I told him that I too was a virgin. It was a lie, a lie that I would carry with me for the entirety of our relationship because it became too stupid for me to tell him it was all a lie.  I concealed my past sexual encounters, pretending that I had never had sex  because I wanted him to continue to see me  in a pure innocent light. I did not want to seem so different from him.

My deception had a positive effect on Donald. He became even more loving and doting, further deepening our bond. Our relationship continued to grow, and after four months, he proposed to me. 

We had a small court wedding and even though I was overjoyed on the day of our wedding I was haunted by the fear of our impending wedding night.

I couldn't escape the dread of that night, not knowing how I could convincingly fake being a virgin. In the past weeks leading up to my wedding night, I had watched countless YouTube videos, learning tricks and techniques to pull off this elaborate charade. On our wedding night, I played my part convincingly, leaving Donald none the wiser. It was a tremendous acting performance, one I managed to maintain for weeks, months, and eventually, years.

Donald was smitten, believing our love story was one of the great rare ones; two chaste individuals uniting in wedded bliss. He took pride in sharing this belief with friends and family, even going as far as boasting about our purity to anyone who would listen. It was a facade I maintained with great difficulty, and as the years went by, the guilt and weight of my deceit began to take a toll on me.

Then, just when I thought I could no longer keep up the charade, life threw an unexpected curveball our way. While trying to get pregnant , the doctor detected that my fallopian tubes were infected. A further diagnosis showed that I have been living with a long term undetectable gonorrhea. The unfortunate result had been served to me in the presence of my husband. 

He sat next to me on the seat, shell shocked thinking that surely it was all a big mistake. He was asked to undergo the test himself and they found out that he also had the STD. 

The man who had believed he had married a pure woman was also affected. It was an agonizing revelation that forced me to confront the truth about my past.

In a tearful confession, I revealed my past sexual experiences to my husband. He was blindsided by my revelation, unable to comprehend how we, two individuals who had committed to waiting for the right person, had fallen victim to such a disease. 

I finally confessed that I was never a virgin and had in fact numerous sexual conquests under my belt. 

The foundation of our marriage crumbled that very night I confessed. My husband moved out of our home, and our communication became nonexistent.  

Today, my life is shrouded in lies, guilt, and regret. My husband is focused on receiving medical treatment, and it appears that he may never return to our marriage. I'm consumed by sorrow, depression, and the overwhelming knowledge that my choices and the burden of my deceit have irrevocably altered the course of our lives.

My story serves as a painful reminder of the consequences of deceit in a relationship. The cost of dishonesty can be incredibly high, and my life is a testament to that truth. I can only hope that one day, forgiveness and redemption may find their way into my life, and I can begin to rebuild the shattered pieces of my existence.