Years ago, my marriage became sexless and distant. My wife’s chronic mental health issues and medications played a big part, while I was diagnosed with depression from work and caregiving. I started cheating before I was diagnosed. At first, I told myself paying prostitutes made it somehow “less bad”, that I just needed sex. I was lying to myself. I wanted sex, but what I really craved was emotional connection. I wanted to feel wanted instead of needed. Eventually, some prostitutes became unpaid sex friends, then other women too. Recently, my wife’s health improved, and somehow we’re reconciling. We even had sex again. I don’t deserve this. Looking back makes me cry. I hate the man I became, the man I promised I’d never become. I’ll never tell her. I know it's cowardly, but telling her would only ease my guilt by devastating her. She has also confided that if I died or left, she would end it, making telling her dangerous. I wish I’d become a better man before becoming this one.