You will never be a philosopher.

I learn from him that I am terrified of monogamy with the wrong person. I never have to tell him, he just knows. I become an alcoholic. He makes me clumsy. I am his third and I love knowing this. He uses Yardley Lavender soap and Dial hand disinfectant. His hands crack from washing them so much. He keeps a piece of a tree in his drawer that he carved out of the same tree Ernest Hemmingway carved his initials into. He feels creative around me, I think because I make him furious. He thinks he is crazy, but I think he is just practical. I get the furniture, and I’m certain he takes most of my good records, but he will never admit to this. He makes me tell every detail about sleeping with another man.