Trying so hard to delete the memory of the mysterious woman in the photo from my mind, I didn't at all question why our races mattered, or why my (white) friend felt so compelled to ask. My friend's very first question, amidst my tears and freshly packed suitcases was, 'Was she Black?'
I recapped the entire thing to my friend over a hysterical video chat, beginning with the arguing, leading up to the Tinder notification, and ending with the discovery of another woman's nudes in his deleted iCloud folder. This summer I went through my very first breakup.
