50x365 #236: Joe

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

You said you left teaching because you wanted more from life, but I think it was to avoid a nervous breakdown. You watered and dusted plants with a zeal that confounded the most passionate of your co-workers. It’s all about the milk, you told me. It makes the plants shine.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #235: A.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

It was weird when you kept looking at me too long, and you played deaf every time I mentioned the Palinode, and you kept my scarf for its smell, but it was the poem you wrote to me sealed in beeswax calling me your beehive that truly did you in.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #234: Christine G.

Monday, May 12, 2008

I dropped by your apartment to find a friend. The friend was not there, but you kept me to tell me all about your fruit flies while you hefted first one breast and then the other breast with your forearms. I was mesmerized by your nipples shifting beneath your t-shirt.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #233: Bernadette

Sunday, May 11, 2008

You spoke to me like a grownup, asked me questions to which you wanted to know the answers, and collapsed with laughter at my sense of humour. I was unused to that kind of attention. It made my twelve-year-old self feel strong and large and intelligent. Thank you.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #232: Mandolin

Saturday, May 10, 2008

I wanted to like you, because my brother was crazy about you, but after you picked fights for attention, lied to my mother, laughed openly about my brother's morals, and confessed you'd lied to him about how many others you'd slept with, I gave up. You were one sneaky bitch.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #231: Calvin

Friday, May 9, 2008

I sat in the back of your stripped-down van smoking hand-rolled cigarettes in the dark while you made several stops around the city to unload your merchandise. It was all I could do after sampling it. The swirling in the dark held me against the cold metal like a mother.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #230: Emily

Thursday, May 8, 2008

You pulled me away to talk. You had so many questions. How do you know you who you are? Is it love if it hurts? If you like all genders, how do you recognize love? Will I be okay? We held hands and smoked while you shook like a child.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #229: Tricia D.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

We didn’t play together often, because you always tried to feed me raw wieners and soda water, but I felt so sad when your father drove over your little dog with his semi truck. Nothing was left but a smear of blood and fur, and you hated him for weeks.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #228: Xander

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Your mother brought you to work occasionally, and you were so sweet. You’d help her decorate the store or burrow into the bin filled with packing peanuts. One time, you popped up at me out the bin and yelled One! Two! Xander! I just about ate your pink little nose.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #227: Anita

Monday, May 5, 2008

I watched you through a window across the street for weeks, fascinated by your skin, your gentleness, the smell on your clothes. I’m sorry I left the way I did. You’ve since become a man, and part of me is left with you out there where you have another name.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #226: Douglas

Sunday, May 4, 2008

You drove us up through the Costa Rican mountains to the modest home of coffee pickers who served us gasolina with homemade fruit juice and nodded at our poor Spanish. When we left, the sky was awash with constellations undifferentiated from the houselights sparkling in the blackness of the mountainsides.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #225: D'Arcy

Saturday, May 3, 2008

We all wrongly assumed you were both gentle and homosexual, judging by your soft voice and flappy hand movements, but you confided that you and your wife divorced over your cocaine addiction, alcoholism, physical and psychological abuse, and especially that time you ripped all the cupboards off the kitchen wall.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #224: Clarke

Friday, May 2, 2008

We three came to your house to shoot a film scene. While we lay about in your garden, arranged seashells, smoked beedies, and watched the light, you regarded me warily, your dark eyes unreadable behind your heavy beard. Still, you offered me dandelion wine at dusk, so there was that.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #223: J. Z.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

I think I'm still drunk from partying last night, you said as we walked to class.

What? Aren't you pregnant? I asked.

Five months, you said. My baby's probably still drunk, too.

Later, when I saw him staring listlessly at a lamp, I felt guilty that I didn't do something.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #222: Erin B.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

You were an overweight only child whose parents were divorced; I was thin with two brothers and parents who were happily married. Our friendship ended suddenly and dramatically when you became jealous, threatened to beat me up, and let no one talk to me for the rest of the year.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #221: Julie R.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

You were smart, and you knew it, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that you made sure everyone else knew, too, by concluding every sentence with a self-satisfied grin. The result? The time that you insisted chickens were upholstery, instead of poultry, was priceless, and everyone knew it.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #220: Natasha

Monday, April 28, 2008

Remember when you were bored that summer? So you started hanging out with me? And you said I was a really great friend? And you invited me to your birthday in September? And then you told everyone I was gullible and stupid and that you never really liked me? BITCH.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #219: Mrs. Gregorich

Sunday, April 27, 2008

You were beautiful like the older sister from "Little House On The Prairie", and, on top of that, you had also studied bats, done mission work in Nicaragua, and committed other fantastic adventures before becoming an elementary schoolteacher. I wanted you to show me how to be a hundred things.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #218: Mrs. Cush, Elementary School Librarian

Saturday, April 26, 2008

You told me that I wouldn't know how smart I was if I didn't test myself with harder books. Even though I loved the Nanook of the North series, I left them that day. It felt courageous to walk to the other end of the library. You started my path.

I am a participant in x365.

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50x365 #217: Gretchen

Friday, April 25, 2008

When we met across the border, you were outspoken with a sarcastic sense of humour, but when you came to visit, I saw through to the illness beneath when you shot one capful of Pepto Bismol for every shooter you took. I held your hair while you vomited and cried.

I am a participant in x365.

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