What I learned from my boyfriend's first marriage

People often think the best part of a new relationship is the desire. The sex, the drag of an index finger above your waistband and the charge that lingers for a moment after they trace your skin. But for me it's the disclosure. The relentless pursuit of knowing and being known by one another. Swapping fluids is great, but oh the decadence of exchanging information. 

I remember the first time my boyfriend told me something big about his marriage. I was in bed with a four-year-old on each side of me, covertly listening to voice messages, mainlining little audible delights from states away. A secret that made me alert and nauseous after midnight. I was so stunned I inchwormed down to the bottom of the bed slowly by bringing my butt to my heels and escaped to search for a joint in the kitchen junk drawer, hoping it would provide me with calm, not the anxiety it had given me every time I'd smoked since I was 14. Even when I hated what he told me, I loved being told.