I woke up to find an email from the husband of a friend from high school in my inbox, desperate and angry with vague threats of suicide, claiming that he found his wife's diaries and discovered the two of us have been having an affair, off and on, for the past eight years.
I don't particularly feel as though I should leave this email sitting in my inbox for long without responding, so I'm spending my morning proving my gold-star-gay status and that I haven't seen the friend in question since 2004.
It's not a fun way to start the day.
