It isn’t our fault that we’re beautiful and in love, and that our followers are lonely losers who can’t get a date. — This morning, Jeremy and I were informed that our Instagram accounts had been suspended indefinitely. My initial reaction? Confusion. What could we have done? It clearly wasn’t an issue of nudity — I wear more layers than Billie Eilish. What else could it be? I thought. Did one of us…

What if there was a service out there that allowed you to get the haircut of your dreams…as you dream? — Are you that person who loves going into the salon to get a haircut? To you, it’s like a relaxing day at the spa. You can’t wait to tell your stylist, Brittany, all about that awkward Tinder date you went on last week. Does that sound like I’m describing you…

Contrary to her prediction, I watch that fireworks video all the time. — I’m watching that fireworks video I filmed with my iPhone on July 4th of last year. The finale is coming up. This is the part where my girlfriend, Daisy, says something about the senselessness of filming such things. “Put your phone away, Seth. …

As far as the general public is concerned, whether you like it or not, you’re the asshole. — A group of sad-looking men and women are gathered together in a school classroom at night. The chalkboard reads: Support group for exes of singer-songwriters. The counselor stands at the front of the class. “What do all of you have in common?” he says. “You chose to date famous singer-songwriters…

Microfiction —

This is the Island of Made-up Boyfriends — the home to fictitious men, created by women, in order to avoid giving out their phone numbers. — A group of men are toasting marshmallows by a fire when they notice a purple cloud of mist in the distance. Moments later, the mist fades to reveal a naked man. “Wh… wh… where am I?” he says. A tall Spaniard, the leader of the group, stands up. “Welcome,” he…

“How do you feel, Sharon?” Dr. Griffin asks me. It’s my first day back at therapy since the funeral last week. I feel pressure to tell him what he expects to hear — that I’m inconsolable, that I’m hanging on by a thread. “Honestly, I haven’t felt anything. …

Dear Abigail, This is your sister, Cindy, writing to you from the next room over. You may or may not have noticed that your pink denim jacket with sunflowers on it has recently gone missing — a great loss, indeed. …

there’s two of me