Sonya and I caught up about the night over iced coffee next to the pool to the soundtrack of singing birds. It would have been bliss had the topic not been about tying her up in a closet so she could sleep at night.

“I’ll save you the awkwardness of even having to ask,” Sonya broached the subject before I had to. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I have horrible blackouts at night, but only after I have sex.”

I thought Sonya was making this up. I thought this was the world’s most-elaborate prank. I almost laughed.

“What do you mean, blackouts?”

“I don’t really even know. It started happening once I started having sex when I was in college. I would go to sleep and then wake up somewhere completely different with a path of destruction in my wake. One time I woke up with my car covered in debris in a creek-bed. Once I woke up in my Kindergarten classroom, covered in blood from punching a window out to get in, one time I woke up in downtown LA on skid row sleeping with a bunch of bums. I eventually had to install the rack thing in there to keep me from running away in the night. I tried just having the door sealed from the outside or getting tied to the bed, but it never worked. I would always find a way to get out.”

“Do you hurt people?” I asked.

“Physically, I don’t know. Emotionally, yes. I understand if it is too much, and I’m sorry for throwing you into this without a real choice, but I got drunk last night and I needed some company. It had been a long, long time. Since before my parents passed. Thank you. Now, I understand if this is too much to deal with.”

“I mean…yeah. That’s pretty crazy.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been to specialists and stuff for this?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, stupid question.”

“I’ve done everything someone could do in this situation except get themselves committed. Which I’m sure could happen at some point.”

“Only if you have sex.”

“Yes.”

“So you just don’t usually have it?”

“No.”

“So we will be fine and you won’t have to sleep in a closet as long as we don’t have sex?”

“Precisely, but I doubt that will work in the long run.”

“I know I’m probably not supposed to say this, and you’ll probably run to the Tinder hills because I did, but I really like you,” I said (nervous laugh).

“We can try.”

—