DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: After an amazing weekend of movie watching, massages and mind-bending sex, I foolishly gave my new girlfriend a key to my apartment — never thinking for one minute she would do what she did.

Two days later, I came home from work and someone was already inside my place, but lying out of sight on my couch, watching my TV. I thought it must be my younger brother, as he has a key. But no, it was my new girlfriend — and she was naked on my couch wearing nothing but a pillow.

I yelled rudely, “What are you doing here?” She said, “Don’t shout at me. You gave me your key!”

I quietly hit the roof. I went into the bathroom to regain my cool and I noticed the medicine cabinet door ajar. She was obviously snooping in there. Then I told her off and demanded my key back. She threw it in my face and left.

Imagine if the United States had the power to determine Canadian citizenship.

It would mean American lawmakers, American judges and American voters would be able to dictate who is and who is not a Canadian.

If Americans didn’t like a decision made by Canadians, for example, they could just simply announce whose opinions, perspectives and votes matter and whose don’t.

Sounds absurd, really.

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: I packed up and finally came home from the cottage for Oct. 1, as I promised my husband. I was excited to see his handsome face again, but he gave me a chilly reception, because I’d stayed away “a whole, long month.”

I had told him earlier this summer that I had a deadline looming and had to wrap up writing my first novel. Without needing to cook and keep house for my helpless, old-fashioned husband, I was able to get my book done and I’m so proud! It’s all ready to send off now.

But my lug of a husband just greeted me with a grunt from the living room — no hugs, kisses or “It’s great you’re home! Can I bring in your stuff?” He just kept sitting in his recliner, pretending to read the paper.

I unpacked alone in the silent bedroom and then I started crying. When I came out, he saw my red eyes, but all he said was, ”What’s for dinner?” Then he got up to leave and said over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in two hours, and I hope you make something good for dinner.”

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: I was at the bar recently and caught the eye of the gorgeous guitar player I’ve idolized since I was in Grade 9. He used to come home with my older sister and they’d disappear into the basement guest bedroom and lock the door while Mom was still at work. My sister and I shared a bedroom upstairs.

I never said a word about it to our mother, although I overheard a lot through the heat register connected with the basement bedroom. I used to lie in the room above and imagine it was me down there with him, with the romantic music playing and the weird noises. I guessed they were not playing board games.

She finally dumped him for a cooler guy two years older. I rarely saw the guitar guy again until lately, when his band played at a school dance in June. His black hair is long and sexy now and he plays fantastic guitar and sings great.

But here’s the problem. I caught his attention and gave him my number, and he’s been phoning me. I really want to go out with him, but my sister once told me if I ever went after one of her boyfriends, past or present, she would get me when I was sleeping by cutting my hair off. That scared me.

You know what I miss? Faces.

You know, regular faces. Different faces. Faces that can emote. Faces that look like they’ve laughed before. Imperfect faces. Visibly old faces. Asymmetrical faces.

Now, especially online, everyone has the same face. Every day, I’m bombarded by images of influencers and Hollywood actors with immobilized foreheads and improbable cheeks. Taut, catlike faces with pillowy lips that don’t look young, exactly, but a different esthetic all together. Like uncanny-valley versions of themselves.

This bombardment is happening because I am a 40-year-old woman on the internet. I’m not kidding: the moment my odometer turned over and my age began with a four, I started getting targeted advertising and Instagram Reels about not just anti-aging products, but full-on plastic surgery.

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: I’m about 90 per cent lesbian in sexual preference — I’ve only had two serious men in my many years of dating and falling in like or in love. Both of those men wanted me to drop my “weird thing“ for women and be 100 per cent theirs, and try to live as a heterosexual with them as partners. But I loved who I loved, and it just came from within.

Now I have a new and very painful problem. I’m in love with two very different people — a man and a woman — and I don’t use the word love lightly for either of them. They don’t want to share me and it looks like I will lose them both soon. I’m doubly heartbroken, but I don’t see any way to win.

I know it’s odd, and I personally don’t know anyone else who has been in this position.

My honesty is what got me into this mess. I should have kept my mouth shut and at least tried to keep them both for a longer time. What should I do?

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: I know my mother has a boyfriend. I’m scared to tell my dad who thinks she’s an angel. Dad works out of town five days a week and flies back home to Winnipeg on the weekends. He makes a lot of money and says it’s worth it, but he doesn’t know what he’s lost already — his wife, for sure. And he hardly knows me anymore.

Mom’s away with “a friend” most weeknights until late, so I don’t see her much. Dad comes home on Fridays for the weekends, and mom fakes being the good wife when he’s at home.

But it’s too late for my mom and me to be close when we’re alone at home. I know she’s cheating on my dad. Is my role in this just to shut up? I feel so alone it scares me.

I’m 17, with plans to go to university for a medical career. There’s lots of money from my dad for that and I will live in residence with other students then.