They also live in a prewar coop. They also have children and have great jobs.

They love and cook and are very funny. They dress well. The love to travel.

This is all the same for me and my husband. We just met them and have gone out a few times, to movies, theater and outdoor concerts in the park.

But then suddenly, after a month, they stopped calling, texting. I wondered if me or my husband had said something wrong.

“Who cares?” my husband said. “We’ll find another couple. And why do we need another couple? We have plenty of friends.”

“But we don’t have this type of couple.” Almost as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I realize the horror of what I am saying.

I’m so ashamed and embarrassed that I can tell no one–not even my husband, who I daresay has not figured out how maliciously superficial I am.

So I tell my therapist. I’ve had a therapist for years. I ask my therapist if I’m somehow prejudice because I want to have a gay couple as our new best friends, instead of a straight couple.

Her answer is, of course, a question: “Do you think you’re prejudice because you want your new best friends to be a gay couple?”