#228 - S.S.

You're perfect. Completely perfect. Pretty, smart, well-liked, the perfect house, kids, husband,  friends. Still, you accept me for who I am, with all my flaws, and so I accept you despite your greatest flaw (which is that you have none).

#234 - T.S.

One time, you came into my house to help me carry something, and there was a purple dildo on the television stand, and I grabbed it and made some comment about my decorating style, and you grinned  and laughed and never mentioned it again.

#233 - H.P.

You confidently brandish your opinions before you like a sword, inflicting carnage. I sit off to the side; not one of the hoards of admirers, but not a victim, either. If you ever confront me, I'll put you in your place, but until then, we're good.

#232 - M.Y.

Your descriptive adjectives run like a list of the perfect man: Handsome. Kind. Intelligent. Calm. Hard-working. Strong. Determined. Atheist. Arms like tree trunks. A decent sense of humor. The qualifier, however, ruins it: Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring. 

#231 - B.Y.

Every Christmas, I put out the snowman that you made me years ago, and I smile, and I think of you and I outside at my graduation party, walking in circles around the cul-de-sac, our friends waiting back at the house while we flirted, insignificantly.

#230 - J.S.

Tall, lanky, with a long face and sad eyes. We were raised like siblings, almost, but I couldn't pinpoint a facet of your personality. I like to imagine that, with the right person, you're witty and sensational, but I suppose I know that's only a dream.

#229 - W.F.

Your life is a cacophony of errors and pain. Every step is a misstep, every dream turns into a nightmare. No family, no religion, no real friends, nothing to guide you... yet you muddle through. Perhaps the future holds something incredible... for your sake, I hope so.