The more relationships I have in my rear view, the more I organize my exes according to the sad-song scale: heartbreak song men . . . liar-song men . . . I-didn’t-mean- to-hurt you-but-oops-I-guess-not-telling-you-I-was-married-was-a-mistake men.
In The Comfort of Lies, pile-ups in the intersections of infidelity, adoption, marriage, parenthood and careers create perfect storms for desolate love music. I gathered a playlist eponymous of the particular sadness or strength of each character, and, of course, each rang in a past love nightmare of my own–thus creating a personal blues loop, allowing me to fall down the rabbit hole of melancholia, making me ever more grateful that I ultimately smartened up and married a non-sad song man.