I spent my youth believing in truth at all costs. It didn’t matter how painful, the truth must be told. The truth was my religion, and lies, of any sort, were sacrilege. At the beginning of my senior year of high school, my dad and I sat in our local diner eating French friends and drinking milkshakes.

“So, what’s going to happen with you and Eric now that he’s off at college?” Eric was my first love, my “soul-mate” in my 17-year-old perspective. He was, however, a year older and went off to college while I still had a year left in high school.

“Oh,” I explained to my dad assuredly. “We’re going to stay together, but we will have an open relationship.”

“That sounds interesting,” my dad, the renowned divorce lawyer said with, I’m sure, all the equilibrium he could muster. “Tell me about it.”