A man I never met broke my heart. He followed me on Twitter, on the account I use for occupiers and politics. We flirted about anything: waterfalls, suede boots, doughnuts. He was witty, attentive, charming. His punctuation was exquisite. After dark, we sparked.
I was on my way to New York for a wedding, and thought he’d said he lived there. When I hinted about meeting, he promised to open the door naked. So I sent a private message to find out if he was in the city. He was home watching a movie and ended up telling me about being betrayed by his ex. I tried cheering him up.