Secrets are fun because they are just for you! Like when you cheat on a person who you took a vow in front of a signifigant number of family members to honor and respect and love for the rest of your. But after you got married that person somehow became your gay best friend, and you both get that he’s gay, but no one is calling out the elephant in the room. So you’re still having somewhat enjoyable, albeit infrequent sex, because you care for each other. A level of care that allows both of you to have an orgasm. Then one day, you talk about what would happen if one of you cheated and your husband gets really upset and starts crying, because the thought of you with another man rips him up inside. Even though the thought of him with another man ripping him up inside seems right. So you’re blind sighted by this because you already started sleeping with a guy you are having really great sex with. It’s a relationship that allows you to have everything you want – a best friend to raise kids with and an awesome sex life. Because you don’t want to marry the dude who you are fucking, cause even though he’s this really sexy kind of nerd hot, you know the kind, Oliver Peoples glasses, skinny arms, face like Harry Potter but more chiseled, wears lilac American Apparel underwear that are three degrees away from being ladies panties, which is pretty sexy. You don’t want to marry that guy cause he writes poetry everywhere on his Facebook, even in the high school name field and is always sending you love songs with a stupid “Spanish Guitar Ballad” app and you can’t deal with that long term. But the guy who you’re married to is also hot, hot in a gay way, cause he is gay, but he loves Lost and wears Calvin Klein boxer briefs and hates fantasy fiction and loves clean countertops and loves kids and you and gets that when you tell him a stupid joke you know it’s stupid, and he laughs cause he totally gets why you’re saying it. And you love him and he loves you. But you can’t hurt him. So you have to keep your secret. Forever.