39-48 of 365x35

39. jasmine
of all the things i found bewitching about you, it was your steady, wise energy that compelled me most. oh, those puffy lips. you seemed comfortable in your skin years before any of us might’ve.

40. kelly (one of the guys who fucked me up)
if ever we meet on the street, i’d spit on your face and pivot before you could speak of any hollow regrets for having inflicted a kind of damage on me you can’t ever fathom.

41. menaka didi
at a time when i was only beginning to grapple with my indian-ness, along came you – a munificent ambassador into the most indian of arts, making me feel more welcome than some relatives even do.

42. david h
i’d sneak down to your bedroom and burrow into your pillow to get high on the heady smell of clearasil, drakkar, and ego. years later, you became a Liberal climber, and the crush was crushed.

43. ian mc
it pained me even while i was doing it to gawk longingly at you like the other girls on campus, not because it was pathetic and cliché, but because i sensed you didn’t deserve it.

44. rowan
you were a beautiful misfit whose fears fit mine. the line you crossed with me may have ended our friendship, but the line you ultimately crossed with yourself marked a much truer ending. RIP, love.

45. svend
years after you’d handed alexa the victory and shattered me, i stared you in the eye and said there wasn’t a cliff i wouldn’t have walked off for you. i’m sorry, you said. me too.

46. another one of the guys who helped fuck me up
etched forever up in here is a picture of you with this caption: “creepy nepalese tour guide in front of whose crotch no preteen girl should ever be forcibly wedged in a tight fishing boat.”

47. robert
your physique intrigued me (long and lithe, like gumby), as did your mind, a sort of rubik’s cube. our fleeting connection was strange, when you think about it - full-body massages and mind games and all.

48. anon
we’d wax on about destinations to be explored, of distant adventures. so much talking. problem was, i finally allowed myself to admit, you never wanted to go with me. i think you wished you did.

[i am doing x365]