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It had been two, maybe three months since we had last spoken. There had been no catastrophic event, no falling out. Everett Everett had started seeing someone and our friendship waned. I already miss you, I wrote to Everett Everett. Our email archive ends there. He never replied. I was wounded but …

[...] I was a teenager and so already understood myself to be something of a creature unlike others, a being of anomalous or uncertain nature, a half-formed human trying to find a way to exist among all the fully formed humans I was certain everyone else already was. I wanted to believe that this s…

Now that I’m older, I suspect my mother used marriage as a way to reinvent herself. As if she could slough off the past and emerge whole and unmarked, ready to slip into the circumstances of someone else’s life. Her own circumstances, the ones she was born into, were poverty, eight younger siblings…

On one of these long nights, an ugly curtain lifts in his head: he’s old enough to know that relationships don’t guarantee happiness, that the source of his pain is an illusion agonizingly elaborated over decades. His mental habits are so ingrained that even if he got a girlfriend, he’d still feel …

He grabs at his friend’s drink. Everyone scrambles. His QPOC friend’s friend, a much larger man, gets up and tells him, “OK, my guy, time to move along.” It defies all reason that he’s getting ejected from a picnic just for airing opinions in good faith, by this swollen alpha dickhead flaunting his…