Good Material

by Dolly Alderton

I stare at the circle for a few seconds and deliberate whether to watch it, doing the mental calculations of loss of dignity vs gains of new information.

In the hope that the Instagram story is a block of text on a neon gradient explaining to her 467 followers exactly why she ended our relationship, I click on it, feeling a rush of masochistic euphoria.

It’s strange to think that everything we know about romantic love and sex we first learnt from each other,

Bon Iver released a new single two days ago. I’ve been storing it up for my train journey back to London for maximum wallowing.

There are so many hidden miniature break-ups within a big break-up. There are so many ahead of me that I haven’t even thought of yet.