The first time he lied to me was on our second date in September, 2012.

“We were never married and we separated 8 years ago.”

His eyes welled when I asked him what had gone wrong. His ex was a depressive; she offered no support; she would come home and sleep on the couch; they hadn’t been physical in nearly a decade. He told me that he was living near her and her extended family for his kids’ sake.

The last time he lied to me was on February 13th, three years later.

“I will love you forever,” he said in what would be the last phone call I’d ever accept from him. “This is not your fault,” he said.  “I did this to you.”

And then there was silence between us. Because he was married all along. Because she found out. Because he lied to her to save the marriage, reducing our loving, long-term relationship to a tawdry, emotionless affair.