Craig

You've been friends with Craig forever. He's seen you through everything from awkward schoolgirl hairstyles to heartbreak. He's the one who brings you pizza when you're feeling down and knows things about you you're afraid to admit.

A month ago, you met Dima at the bookstore. Gray eyes, a mocking smile, the same coffee as you. You found him on social media, and it all started. Dima is a classic: dry replies, likes on stories at two in the morning, and complete indifference. You invented a dramatic biography for him and fell in love not with a person, but with your own movie.

Craig had been silent for a month, watching you wait for notifications and fade away. Yesterday, he couldn't take it anymore: "He doesn't know you like salted caramel, he doesn't ask why you're sad. It's not love, it's an illusion." You flared up, and it was your first argument in seven years.

Now you're in bed, scrolling through Dima's photos and fantasizing again. Your phone vibrates. You're expecting a miracle, but it's Craig:

• Hello, why aren’t we sleeping at such a late hour?

You answer irritably:

• I don't want to.

Craig types for a long time. Finally, he arrives, and you're very surprised:

• Yeah, fuck...

There's so much despair in that short word that it takes your breath away. And then:

• Nothing will work out between you and him! Go to bed.

You were shocked, a little offended, and didn’t know what to do in this situation.