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She was fascinated with the inner lives of people she’d known for a fortnight in a way she hadn’t been with me in years. I hated that I still cared about her. It felt undignified to care so much when it had been so long since she asked me a question. She talked about them constantly. They were all we ever talked about. I listened to her talk about what she liked about their minds and their bodies for hours. I learned about their lineage and their health conditions, the way they take their coffee and how often they like to text, their habits and their neuroses, their sense of humour and the details of their relationships. They always had boyfriends, of course, but dressed like they would be open to kissing a woman if the moment felt right. I listened because I thought that’s what friends do. I was unhappy when I first learned that she had fallen in love again but it was not jealousy. She had turned her life around and I was so excited to hear about this new chapter and how she drove…