Five Secrets and Two Lies I Have to Tell About Love.

1. When I was seven, a girl named Joey at my all-girls elementary school convinced the class that her peter pan haircut wasn't her mother's idea of a cruel joke, and that she wouldn't change in the same room as us in gym class because she was actually a boy and the all-boy's school hadn't had room for her. I, of course, wrote her a love letter. Even now, when I see her at the mall selling Armani in a miniskirt, I am convinced that this explains everything.

2. You broke my heart three days ago. I haven't eaten since. Whiskey, yes; half a pear once, but I felt like I was cheating myself of something.

3. I know that my sister is gay. She grew up on the other side of Lake Erie and I've only seen her maybe fifteen times in my entire life, but I can still feel things like this, in the thrum of our shared blood. She makes loud, pointed references to future children and husbands at family weddings, but I saw the way she looked at her Chinese roommate that time I visited her at college, and I had this itch in my palm that I didn't understand, that I know now was because I wanted to touch her somewhere I wouldn't be allowed to, her face, her wrist.

4. When I lost my virginity, we were watching White Men Can't Jump on the paisley couch in your parent's basement. It occurs to me now that I should be more careful about these things.

5. When you told me that you've always wanted to kiss someone all the way up a spiral staircase, I thought you were stupid.

6. I always say that it never gets easier, losing faith in you or whatever version of you is around at the moment. I am lying when I say this. It gets so much easier, and afterwards, I love worse every time.

7. When people I know vaguely die tragic deaths, and I tell people about it, I usually say they were my friends. I don't feel so guilty about this; I like to think that you're okay with the fact that I never really liked you until a semi bent your Corolla into an inarticulate U, that you're happy to have me around now.