She said she wanted to do something different for vacation this year. Times were changing; we needed to do the same. We Ubered ourselves around, ignoring bands of available taxis as they drove past. She Instagrammed throughout our trip, insisting we stop at every attraction for a selfie or three. She Snapchatted how amazing the sex felt in someone else’s bed, in someone else’s space, the rented SoHo loft she found on Airbnb. When it rained, we Grubhubbed, but I couldn’t eat until Facebook knew I liked jalapeños on my pizza. When we returned from our vacation, I moved out. If times were changing, then so would I.
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Wait, Let Me Just Post This was originally published by *82 Review, Issue 4.4, Winter 2016.