If you ask me, it's fucking vile. To me in particular, at least. I'm a very solitary person, but on the rare occasion that I'm interested enough in someone (or pity them enough) to declare an official relationship with them, I'll open up to them. When you've got trust issues like I do, it's a huge display of vulnerability that I've never even voluntarily shown to any of my therapists, despite how much I wanted them to help me. Trauma has a way of making you intensely distrust everyone you ever meet. It gets lonely, though. You can only push so many people away before you start to realize that it's hurting you, but you still can't overcome your insecurities enough to let anyone get close.
So, when one of the few people in the world I've opened up to betrays me like that, it just... I can't cope. It takes me weeks just to start eating again, to say nothing of how seriously I considered suicide (to the point where I quaffed five shots of rum and a bottle of NyQuil, then took off speeding around town in my truck looking for something to slam into). It's not so much about heartbreak as it is about watching paradise burn down before my eyes; just when I think I've finally found somebody I can confide in, someone I can actually trust on a meaningful level and catch a break from my life of perpetually walling myself off from others... they pull the rug out from under me and laugh, condemning me distance myself from others even more severely.
Here's the short version: fuck cheaters.