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The Group Chat

Andie

There is a group chat. I am not in it. It is, as far as I can tell, entirely dedicated to the logistics of loving me, and it is the most unhinged document in existence.

One of them plans the dates. One of them remembers the anniversaries none of us officially have. One of them just sends increasingly deranged voice memos at 3 a.m. and somehow he is my favorite for exactly that reason.

I found the chat by accident. I have said nothing. Watching four grown men argue over whose turn it is to bring me flowers is the single greatest thing I have ever witnessed, and I intend to keep witnessing it forever.

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