“I used to think ‘affair is human’ was an excuse,” Jan says. “Now I think it’s a warning. We all have the capacity to betray or be betrayed. The real work is building a life where neither of us feels the need to.” If you were looking for a (“Savannah Stern,” “Affair Is Human,” “Jan Full”), please double-check the spelling or source. I’m happy to rewrite this as a summary, analysis, or continuation of that original text if you can provide more accurate details or a link.

The ones who left didn’t leave because of the affair alone. They left because the affair revealed something deeper: contempt, indifference, or a fundamental mismatch in values.

“The affair was the symptom,” says Maria, 39. “The disease was that he never really respected me. Once I saw that, I couldn’t unsee it.” Calling an affair “human” is not a free pass. Infidelity causes real trauma. Betrayal leaves scars. But when we demonize the person who strayed as a pure villain, we miss the chance to understand the fragile, flawed, longing creature that every human being is — including ourselves.

“I know, I shouldn’t have read it,” she says. “But I saw my name. He wrote: ‘Savannah deserves better, but I don’t know how to give it to her anymore.’”