A few weeks ago, my friend invited me to dinner with her roommate and her thing. (“Thing” because this is 2014, and “boyfriend” / “girlfriend” / insert-term-that-doesn’t-reinforce-the-gender-binary is way too close to “fiancé” / “fiancée” / insert-another-gender-spectrum-term. It’s also 2014 because of that third option.)

I knew she and the thing had been going through a rough patch – similar to gravel beneath a blowup swimming pool – but assumed they were over it. We even went to the thing’s house post-dinner. And stayed there for three hours. I took selfies with his cat. When we left, he invited us all to go pumpkin picking the next day.