#223 - E.T.

You can always be counted on to say something flippant or irreverent. You have talent, intelligence, humor, and that extra je ne sais quoi, but there's also something painful inside, something that makes you hide from the world. I wish I could pull you out.

#222 - A.G.

Born in the Bronx, you made your way to Ohio, sharing wicked stories from your youth. Now you're sallow, pale, boring. Your writing makes me wince at its awkwardness and showiness. Letting you slip away was like taking my bra off - relief after constriction.

#221 - S.G.

You'd sit and chant mantras in a sing-song, and I would feign interest. After a while, though, it was kind of calming. Even today, you'll answer any question about Buddhism that I can fathom. You radiate peace... and creepiness. Sweet.

#220 - C.C.

You were a tall, skinny man who stayed quiet for the most part. Sometimes, you would explain something scientific to us, and I would see your intelligence, but then you just kind of faded away into your books.

#219 - S.S.

A former OSU football player, you can barely write a complete sentence in our online class. You latched onto me from the first day and you constantly bombard me with requests for help with research, essays, and your divorce. GO AWAY.

#218 - D.O.

Animated and well-groomed, you're jovial and a quick wit. My mother thinks you are the Best Person Ever and she makes sure that she's friends with your wife and family. Why am I the only one that can see that you're gay?

#217 - A.C.

Bold. Brash. Rude. Opinionated. You always hated someone, and I would stand and stare as you gossiped animatedly to my mother. Fascination turned to annoyance quickly, and I was glad you didn't come to my wedding.

#216 - D.K.

While assisting the surgeon during that first eye surgery, you grinned down at the girl with no hair and numerous scars, teasing her, trying to coax her into becoming an eye doctor someday. Somehow, you made the horror bearable, and you'll never be forgotten.

#215 - G.K.

Concert pianist. Pilot. Loving husband and father. World-renowned neuro-opthamologist.  Typically, you're jovial and easy-going, but in surgery, you snap orders and boss your nurses around. I don't care, really - I see one of everything. Thank you.

#214 - M.L.

You're listed in every Top U.S. Surgeon list, but to me you're the guy who saved my life. Once, at a checkup, I mentioned this weird thing my tongue did post-surgery, and you showed me the exact spot on my MRI that explained it. Brilliant.

#213 - W.G.

You are a pompous asshole, but you let me make Asian jokes about you and you say nice things when I don't expect them, so I overlook it. I might even let you fill in that last stripe in the rainbow.

#212 - A.W.

A sweet, doe-eyed little girl, you'd come running whenever I walked into the house. In the 20 minutes I was there, you'd discuss homework, friends, sports and toys, pulling me from room to room. I wished I could take you home before they ruined your innocence.

#211 - N.W.

We'd pass the time as our men conducted business. You had long, gorgeous hair that slid down your body, big blue eyes, and a tough personality. I always wanted to ask you how that prostitution thing actually worked, but it never came up.

#210 - M.D.

You were fascinated with the fact that I was a teacher. My husband would drag me with him to buy his smoke, and I would make the best of it, perching on your couch and asking you ridiculous questions as you laughed hysterically.

#209 - D.W.

At our conference, you yelled at me, eyes bulging, about lies she told you. When I set you straight, you turned on her and yelled at her instead, and she was terrified. I wished I could direct your anger back to me.

#208 - J.S.

On paper, you were everything a girl could want - musical, sweet, handsome, tragic, a little wicked. After a week together, though, you proclaimed your love and offered up your soul -- I was horrified by your neediness. I crumpled up the paper and got out.

#207 - L.R.

In 7th grade, I insinuated that you were dealing, and you found out. Then you were on a vendetta to "get me", and I was terrified - I skipped school for days. When I returned, I wasn't so meek. You never messed with me again.

#206 - M.S.

Your mom would show me pictures of you and tell me stories of how outgoing and hilarious you were. When you got out of prison (released early for good behavior), even I could see how empty your eyes had become. I hope it got better.

#205 - M.R.

He drove Cookie and me home for Thanksgiving, and we stopped at your house to eat. You hugged me close, gave Cookie her own plate, and dragged me down to the basement to offer me my pick of heirlooms. Your family is pure warmth.

#204 - S.M.A.

An elderly nun, you'd call up my parents and tell them how I read books in class instead of doing math. I'd fill my eyes up with tears and protest. I would never do that! She was crazy! Age 8, and already, no respect for religion.

#203 - B.W.

Yours was the mullet to end all mullets - I wish I had a picture. You almost always walked around without a shirt on, wearing your hairy nipples like badges. When she left you, you turned ghetto, and the hilarity was almost too much to bare.

#202 - D.M.

You were the private instructor to learn from, so my parents made me take a lesson from you instead of my usual guy. I can see you: confident, stiff, with technique but no spice. One lesson was enough: I refused to go back to you.

#201 - N.F.

We'd meet in that tiny room in the back of the guitar shop; I can still smell the valve oil, intoxicating in the narrow space. Your music was smooth as silk, mine was edgy and syncopated; we let our styles mix as you taught me technique.

#200 - W.S.

A hobbled old man, I always felt a little creepy when you'd hug me hello. My mother would snatch me away and change the subject. Years later, I found out about how you molested your kids, and I wondered why your wife stayed with you.

#199 - R.S.

Every Christmas eve, we'd go to your house on the edge of the ghetto and pile our coats on the bed in the back room. You'd always give me a big hug - you smelled like soft perfume - and send me off to play with kids I didn't know.

#198 - K.M.

At some point you drank rubbing alcohol because you couldn't get anything else. It damaged your brain, made you forgetful and obnoxious. My grandma would tell stories about your youth - the youngest sister and her antics. I'm sorry I never really met you. 

#197 - W.W.

You shoveled soup into your mouth as I intently studied my polished fingernails. Ph.D. student, marathon runner, husband to one, boyfriend to six, sexual deviant, cocky asshole. Your braided hair went down to your ass, and my sense of disgust went down to my stomach.

#195 - J.S.

Tall and almost bald, with a little dog that you dote on and fun tattoos. You give me wonderful poetry - Bukowski, Brautigan, Baudelaire - and I'm fascinated by the intelligence of a man who sells snow blowers. NOW who's wearing the mask?

#194 - A.R.

Even though you're my cousin, I've never had much of an opinion about you. Then you married that loud, obnoxious woman and somehow had these three adorable little girls, and I figure there must be something awesome about you, because your daughters are amazing.

#193 - R.M.

You drop your son off at the sitter around the same time I drop off mine. I smile and say hello, and you mumble something unintelligeable. To other parents, though, you're sweet and personable. What the hell did I do?

#192 - D.A.

I was sleeping with your brother, who was a dick. You'd find me curled up downstairs, studying some textbook; you'd gently pry it out of my hand, put my feet in your lap, and talk to me for hours. I picked the wrong brother.

#191 - W.L.

You stand on your porch, beer in hand, and chatter as people in dirty clothes parade in and out of your house; your children wander in the vicinity. You make it a point to invite my son over to play, which is nice, but... no.

#190 - A.C.

You were tall, brilliant, and had long, straight brown hair that swept down your back. The four of us had sleepover parties with uncontrollable laughter and wicked gossip. Then you went to Catholic school and we never saw you again.

#189 - J.D.

It was a snow day, and we holed up in your parents' house, ordered pizza, and worked on our Spanish project. The summer brought softball and co-ed pool parties! Today, you're an Army wife with a new baby and far too much allegiance. Where'd you go?

#188 - J.S.

The pictures you took were shocking and horrific, but famous in some circles. You found it hard to actually talk to people, and it was obvious I made you nervous. You only opened up when you were talking about horror-film-esque themes. It got old fast.

#187 - S.A.

Big, bouncy, brown curls. Huge brown eyes. Your family came from Pakistan, but you came from Toledo, and we struggled through grammar classes and education seminars together. You never actually taught and headed right to grad school. I miss those whispered confidences.

#186 - A.Y.

You were so handsome it made my soul hurt, so forbidden, it made me want you with every fiber of my being. Daily, I'd watch you play basketball with the boys from the projects. Then you graduated and I never saw you again. Eh.

#185 - B.C.

In high school, you were a star soccer player, brilliant, haunted by addiction. Today, you're a college professor, still achingly brilliant, and a recovering alcoholic. You've withdrawn from life, but you haven't given up. Keep fighting the good fight.

#184 - J.C.

I can see you - eyes furrowed, hands moving. I would stand in the back at your shows and watch you, the most talented bass player I'd ever met. Still, our lives were far too intertwined to move forward, and instead, I drifted away.

#183 - M.C.

You're one of the few co-workers I truly like. Tall, skinny, and goofy, I can take criticism from you without flinching. We sit next to each other at staff meetings and graduation and make snarky comments until our faces are blue from not laughing.

#182 - S.M.

Musical, intelligent, supportive, creative and somehow... electric. It's fascinating to watch you figure out who you really are after three decades of being who you were supposed to be. You're going places, and I'm getting in on the ground floor.

#181 - L.Z.

Eighty-eight hours spent on your levy campaign last year as marketing director. Months getting the board members YOU wanted elected. But you found it easy to call me in, your gray brows furrowed, and denigrate me because of the unsubstantiated claims of a liar.

#180 - Q.

You're handsome, quiet, around my age. You do my nails, snickering softly to yourself at my prattle. Soon, you're telling me about your past gang affiliations in L.A. and your pimp-like ways, and I'm kind of impressed at the empire you've made here.

#179 - J.P.

We both got married; yours lasted. We're both teachers; you teach little cute ones. You got Mark then; me, later. You're blonde and pure; I'm dark-haired and slutty. You have a clique of female friends; I don't let many close. Parallel. Kind of.

#178 - J.W.

My 6th-grade heart hit the floor when I saw you, and I was a goner. I became best friends with your twin sister, just to sleep in the room next to yours. Now you're married and grown up and boring. C'est la vie.

#177 - E.G.

One night, we slept on the concrete floor in your parents' basement, waking up stiff and sore. You were a good friend, and we spent most days together. Then you dated my ex-boyfriend, and I couldn't stand to watch, so I stopped calling you back.

#176 - A.E.

You are just as condescending as your husband. But when I talk to him, I feel a mutual appreciation. When I talk to you, I only feel your desire to dominate. It's not a contest - feel free to be the smart one, really. I'm good.

#175 - S.E.

Pompous, with a weirdly picky parenting style, you stand with your back straight and tell people what to do and how to think. I seek you out at parties and listen, nodding vigorously in agreement, even though I'm neutral. It makes me giggle.

#174 - C.L.

Your big, fluffy moustache is a great target for my jokes. You make amazing art, fix houses, and send me playful words. You insist that when you come back in May, we'll hang out in a field. We'll hang out wherever you want, #2.

#173 - A.W.

"I've figured it out," you told me gravely. "It's only 56 days from me to you by kayak." I laughed, as I always did, but the insurmountable distance left me with a feeling of longing so strong that it filled every day with daydreams of 'if only'.

#172 - R.M.

We send cell phone pictures - 20, 30 a day - you of exciting music venues, you and your buddies jamming on stage, gorgeous views of the coast, me of old buildings and the kid's toys and funny signs. Florida trumps Ohio every time.

#171 - L.M.

Big, bouncy blonde curls that fly in every direction, big, crooked yellow teeth that fly in every direction, and some odd attraction to my insane older brother. You're his first girlfriend in over 20 years, and you actually seem cool. Bless your heart.

#170 - G.Y.

The shining star in my Marine collection, you were built, mind and body. You pursued me, then went back to her, then pursued me, then went back to her. The choice was hard, so I made it for you, but you never thanked me.

#169 - B.A.

The first day of class, I thought you were some drama-filled kid that was trying to speak in a fake British accent. No one told me you were the Australian exchange student! I learned so much from you, and we'll all miss you next year.

#168 - H.R.

He left you, and it was horrible - I'll give you that. But you refuse to let go, and you monitor his every move, trade money that he needs for sex you want and cut down even his platonic friends. You are so gross.

#167 - J.H.

Big, bumbling and brilliant, you wore Velcro shoes and pants that were a little too short. I adored your eccentricity and I sat and flirted at your oblivious self. My friends laughed at me, but I saw how special your heart was.

#166 - B.T.

You turned the Writing Lab into a home for all: scared Midwestern farm kids, Ph.D. students from India, refugees from African nations. We'd throw huge holiday parties with food from all over, and talk and laugh and share for hours. You are so very loved.

#165 - B.A.

Tiny, with bouncy brown curls, you were loud and outspoken but always really friendly. You coined the phrase, "here's how it's gonna be: I'm gonna fuck you, you gonna pay me", which made me laugh hysterically in any given situation. Did you ever marry that elusive fiance?

#164 - M.G.

I joked once about your Mafia connections and you got serious, telling me about getting roughed up in a bar by the mob. A huge sweetheart, the thought of you being mean makes me laugh - unless I turned down sushi. Then you'd be pissed.

#163 - M.D.

In high school, you were silly, sweet and quiet, and I always liked you. Years later, you're conceited, and you're an avid, outspoken military wife. You favor trite, threadbare phrases and I yearn to avoid you as much as possible.

#162 - J.A.

"You can't pick which parts of the Bible to believe," you said, "It's either all or nothing." With those words, we unclasped hands, and my devotion to you and to God was severed with a single phrase.

#161 - S.B.

The picture: the three of us, me in the middle (of course), standing in the Indianapolis Hard Rock Cafe. You're both leaning towards me possessively, seemingly a love triangle. The truth? You were about to break up, and I was the popular diversion.

#160 - C.S.

You read, and it calms me. You speak, and it soothes me. You touch, and it moves me. You are calm and passive until you need to be strong and demanding. I adore the depths within.

#159 - S.P.

You're not my cousin, really. You have this massive body that could be considered cruel but instead surrounds one of the sweetest and caring minds in the world. We'll just forget that you're a trained killer, former Marine.

#158 - C.S.

Cocky as hell, you were bi and spread your lovin' all around your little group. I wonder what else you spread? I am glad that I, as naive as I was in my youth, did not partake.

#157 - A.W.

Dirty-blonde hair, you were underage and lived with a bunch of guys. You flirted with me incessantly, until I said "sweetie, it's okay, you're allowed to just be someone's friend" and then you sobbed and I knew it had nothing to do with me.

#156 - B.E.

You and two friends showed up at B.G., out of the blue. I threw on all-black clothes and tried to fit in, but I was so confused by the relationships between the three of you that I gave up and sent you back to Florida.

#155 - B.P.

You have a lot of video games in your basement, and listen to more girly music than I do. Your wife is much cooler than you and you haven't read even one of the books I gave you. You were The Protector of the Oatmeal.

#154 - E.S.

Tattoos cover every inch of your chest, arms and back (mostly gang symbols from your life in L.A.), making you appear scary and tough. However, you're bent over your engineering textbook and your eyes are furrowed in concentration, and your redemption makes my heart soar.

#153 - R.C.

You are a dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty cop. Dirty. Young and hot. I'm pretty sure that you have sex with three different women a day. We discuss monogamy, polygamy, swinging, open relationships, and cheating, and I'm so glad that you're not even an option.

#152 - N.K.

I would watch you from my position at the cash register, hoping for a quick word or a sly flirtation. I'm sure I was laughable as I worked my 16-year-old charms, but you were either amused or intrigued, because you always came back for more.

#151 - C.V.

We'd huddle in your basement apartment, drinking and kissing and teasing. Nights apart were spent on the phone as I assuaged your fears and helped heal your wounds, and then one day you were all better and you found yourself the woman of your dreams.

#150 - K.P.

You look so much like my son, people at restaurants comment. You're hilarious, sarcastic, and somehow a little bit evil, and you're so spoiled, but nobody minds. I don't think they even mind too much, anymore, that you're not that boy they wanted.

#149 - A.S.

They were nice to your face until they had reason not to be. Then, suddenly, it was a smear campaign against you, and my brother dumped you, leaving you somewhat psycho. "Dumb white trash" is a dealbreaker with my mother.

#148 - A.R.

To my 12-year-old eyes, you were a goddess, and you reigned like a queen... beautiful, sweet, funny. I was devastated when, years later, you broke up with my brother, but now, I see that besides all the beauty, you were brilliant, too.

#147 - C.M.

The world is flat, black and white newspaper, and you are a handful of confetti, flying in circles, doing flips and twists and astounding everyone. I want to fold myself into you and breathe in deep.

#146 - W.M.

You were with me when my brain hemorrhaged, and I don't remember your reaction, but I know I wasn't alone. I want to rekindle that friendship, that laughter, but your tiny little half-black, half-Jewish sexy bartender self lives a drastically different life than me.

#145 - N .J.

Here's what I remember about you: artistic, couldn't eat most foods, nerdy, rich, nice. Here's what I don't remember about you: everything else. Oh! You had a waterbed back home and we went to a 3-storied mall. Now I'm done.

#144 - T.S.

A large, happy man, you chase your wife around your house in the mornings, laughing hysterically and teasing each other. You're her second husband, the true love of her life, and I see hope before my eyes when I watch the two of you.

#143 - S.W.

Beady little eyes, a cocky swagger, you're like that kid that everyone hated in junior high. Now you're the boss, and you have it out for me. I'm reprimanded for the slightest deviation from the rules. Too bad we have an awesome union, huh?

#142 - J.R.

Everyone hated you - students. fellow teachers, administration - but I somehow landed myself on your good side from day one. This meant those kind of library perks that only an English teacher could love. Now that you've retired, I barely set foot in there.

#141 - C.F.

You defy every stereotype I have ingrained into my brain. You're a mother, a grandmother, a breast cancer survivor, a librarian, a Great Dane owner, a motorcycle mama, and a devout Mormon. Oh, and you're super protective of me. I love you!

#140 - K.V.

You were the first friend I made in college, and through you, I met the two women I call my closest friends. Outside of that, I don't really have an opinion about you... you were nice. What else can I say?

#139 - E.L.

You're from a country with black volcanic sand. As I brokenly speak your language, you smile, pleased. Our friendship is based on our mutual lack of trust and our shared love of bitter sarcasm. You're not serious, but you're fun. PEZONES!

#138 - P.C.

I saw the Thriller video for the first time at your house, and I ran home, crying hysterically. We ate bologna and ketchup sandwiches and darted between houses - the closest thing to a sister I had. We grew apart, and I don't really know why.

#137 - S.S.

You often attempted to assert your dominance in my college apartment. I don't know if you saw me as competition or just hated my attitude, but you got him, so I hope you enjoy your husband, 14 years younger than you.

#136 - C.M.

The two of you showed up the day before my ill-fated marriage. You assembled the archway, entertained my relatives, and were in charge of the fish (and dead fish replacements) on top of the tables. Aside from the Cowboys fascination, you're pretty awesome.

#135 - M.S.

Our first conversation - "wait a minute! our GRANDMAS grew up together?!" - coincidence at a college of 17,000. I rode your karaoke coattails, helped you pick out Halloween costumes, and threw popcorn in your mouth from a distance. You're a happy memory from a happy time.

#134 - P.T.

The little white house divided into apartments, the little bedroom with the weird corners, the twin bed with the soft bedspread, the black lab barking outside of the bedroom door, and you… oh, you… you and that tongue ring… mmmm you.

#133 - I.F.

The coach of the debate team at a prestigious Toledo prep school, you spent large amounts of your time researching topics. In action, you were aflame, firing rebuttals at will. In person? Eh… you were kind of boring. Stick to the stage.

#132 - A.C.

You were dumb, but nobody cared. Canadian, handsome, and the star of the BGSU hockey team, you radiated confidence. In debate class, when our group brainstormed argumentative topics, your only contribution was “legalizing marijuana!” and “free pot!”, which would explain the lack of brain cells.

#131 - M.S.

I saw you at each of my checkups - you started out brusque and matter-of-fact, but soon took my cup of urine with a grin. When you showed up at the hospital immediately after CB was born, I was more touched than I ever told you.

#130 - M.G.

You inspired me to write my blog, which was awesome of you. You were a great, platonic friend, which was awesome of you. We turned on our webcams, and instead of your face, your penis filled the screen. That was NOT awesome of you.

#129 - R.G.

Get-rich-quick schemes. Big plans. You took everything, and yet she stays with you, loving you more than you will ever deserve. You both live in a trailer now, and I remember the pretty house she owned and I'm so sad you came into her life.

#128 - E.G.

One of my earliest memories is of you, putting soap on my head in the bathtub and shrieking, "you're an old woman!". My second mother, you were a part of our family as much as anyone. All those puns I make? That'd be from you.

#127 - C.R.

A grown-up version of the prom queen, you're on your third marriage and you drink constantly. You seem so nice, but I know you're fake, but I rarely have to see you so I'm fake right back to you. It keeps the peace on Christmas.

#126 - F.R.

One day, you made the comment that kids today don't walk fast enough, as though that were a pressing concern in our nation. You're jovial, confident, and successful, but drunk 24 hours a day, so I don't know if that's you or the beer.

#125 - T.W.

You pick the worst guys to date, and you act like it doesn't bother you, but it does. You have energy and attitude that most people shy away from, but it makes me adore you so much more. Please stop compromizing your future, though, ok?

#124 - C.V.

Oh, do you have an attitude, Missy!!! It doesn't bother me, though - it'll pass. You're more intelligent than you let on, and if you'd become more comfortable with wonderful YOU, you'd achieve more than you ever though possible. I'd love to see you try.

#123 - L.C.

You owe me a pack of gum, and I'm pretty bitter about this fact. You're musical, opinionated and slightly caustic, but you typically temper the attitude with a smile. You talk more than I can believe, but I appreciate the sarcasm, truly.

#121 - T.T.W.

You're not tough, you know, but I'll let you pretend so that we keep our mutual love happy. You make bitter comments about me (he tells me everything) and they irk me because they're accurate. I'd probably like you in an alternate situation.

#122 - S.A.

The biggest brown eyes I've ever seen, I would watch your dark, dark fingers trace the light skin on the underside of my arm. Laughing, you taught me dirty words in Hindi. Maa chod. Bhen chod. I can still cuss out any Indian from your hometown.

#120 - J.K.

You should have been in honors classes, but you took middle-level classes, answering quickly, pompously. I have a video of you belly-dancing. When she would request work from you as her teacher's aide, you'd roll your eyes and laugh. Original to the end - that's you. 

#119 - B.W.

Sadly, you were not in my senior class that year. I saw you, shoulders drooping, walk out of the class across the hall, and I felt so bad for you. After all, you couldn't be a douchebag in her class. Poor baby.

#118 - T.M.

Your past included a boyfriend who was 20 years older than you, a serious heroin addiction that you beat, a switch to night school, and getting fired for stealing money from McDonalds. Let's hope the future got better.

#117 - S.C.

When I arrived, you already had the room set up with color-coordinated bins and a lush bedspread. You were homecoming queen back home in Zanesville and you randomly had a southern accent. I can't believe I never slapped you as you smacked your gum for hours.

#116 - M.N.

We played Spades on your inner-city front porch at your graduation party, eating pastelijos and drinking warm soda. I was the only non-Hispanic there, but no one cared - they just brought me more spicy food and teased me about my preppy clothes and hair.

#115 - V.M.

We rocked that talent show - "I'm Your Baby Tonight", you on the drums, me on the trumpet. You were dirt-poor, and I wanted to make us even, but your church helped you more than I could. I hope you're doing okay.

#114 - S.R.

I'm embarrassed to admit this, but you were my first crush. We'd sit on the phone at night, and I would laugh until I hurt. I saw you once when I went back home, but you didn't see me - I made sure of it.

#113 - S.G.

I regret to say that I don't remember your name. You had a lovely townhouse in Toledo, and your floor was hard against my back. I recall closets everywhere, but I don't know if that is fact or symbol.

#112 - E.Y.

You let me borrow your car before I had a drivers' license. You flirted with everyone - guys, parents, teachers, my boyfriends, me. You oozed sexuality, but you slept across the room from me every night, so I know you weren't sleeping around... much.

#111 - G.S.

After dinner (where you ordered for me) and some time watching your pet ferret crawl into your shoes, we had sex on your bed during a raging thunderstorm. When you drove me home in the morning, D was horribly worried because I hadn’t called.

#110 - D.B.

You had tattoos and a little girl, you lived with your mom and worked a job you hated. You were sweet, you were fun, but I never felt that spark I needed. Someday you'll find someone nice and bland to bond with.

#109 - T.N.

Honestly, I find your teen-angst posts on Facebook a little annoying, but I still like you. The last year has been tough. You remind me of your mom (though you hate when I say that) and I'm somewhat impressed with your strength. Carry on.

#108 - M.G.

We started teaching the same year. You're a sweet guy, but stiff, formal, detached from students and staff alike. Sometimes you make a joke, and you laugh blandly, and I wonder how your gorgeous wife gets through the entire weekend with you.

#107 - F.F.

On a flight back from England, you pulled out your cell phone to call me. The call went through, but you were immediately attacked by stewardesses. The ensuing text? "Dude. I almost got machine-gunned." Who does that? I can't stop laughing.

#106 - J.S.

At first glance, a quiet, shy, mousy girl, something changed in you over the summer. Now you're a vibrant senior who shouts out "orgies!" as an answer in class. It makes me smile to see your confidence.

#105 - J.S.

A kindergarten teacher with two daughters and a husband, you are also on like 500 committees. Yet when you heard I was sick, you immediately stopped over, brandishing food for us and toys for my kid. I'm pretty sure that you're my hero.

#104 - T.F.

You had the biggest boobs, and the kids would all nod knowingly and snicker. You taught sophomore English matter-of-factly. I remember sitting on the stage, as your teacher's aide, and grading papers feverishly. You made me enjoy A Tale of Two Cities - no small feat.

#103 - M.C.

Your daughter's roommate was Meatloaf's daughter, you informed us on the first day of class. We were freshmen; anything impressed us. I memorized and performed Shakespeare's Queen Mab speech - to this day the words roll off my tongue. I barely remember you.

#102 - T.I.

The head football coach, you had a hairlip and taught English like you lived the stuff. Your love for the written word was infectious, and we all sat forward in our seats, nodding like little marble statues. I never actually read Billy Budd though - sorry.

#101 - P.F.

In my 8-year-old eyes, you were exciting, gorgeous, funny. As I grew up, you remained someone elusive, someone fun. I pouted when you got married. But now, looking back, you just seem washed-out, boring, mundane. Did my views change, or was life REALLY hard?

#100 - E.S.

I remember the scene at a mutual friend's wedding - your husband, terror in his eyes, protesting as you literally drag him onto the dance floor. I imagine that's what your daily life is like - you, making him fit your vision of what he should be.

#99 - S.M.

Oh, there are layers with you, sir. I feel myself mourning your lost childhood, all the pain... and then I see the way you take that pain and shoot it right back at people who aren't worthy of you, and I lose any sympathy.

#98 - M.C.

Nice, jovial, you teach English and coach football. Always a smile, always a chipper comment, you answer questions about your wife and kids with a big ol' grin. And you're bland, bland, bland, like a vanilla wafer and a glass of lukewarm water.

#97 - J.B.

You out-tricked the trickster that I became, and I respect you so much for that. You're beaten inside, worn-out, but not broken. I've taken it upon myself to show you how amazing you are. Sorry if that's not what you want.

#96 - E.M.

A big kid with a big grin and a big heart. You latched on to me last year and you still spend the majority of the day in my classroom. Your infectious energy pushes me through the most sluggish of days. You'll go far.

#95 - D.E.

You lecture in front of rooms of hundreds of brilliant students and speak for the masses of people who can't speak for themselves, but a phone call with me makes you shy. You're an impressive source of information, but you've got a weird 'stache. :-p

#94 - M.R.

I love our cheesy nicknames for each other. I think we have like 63 each. I adore all the different you's you have inside - they kind of match up with all the different me's I have inside. You're the Lulu to my Kai Lan.

#93 - J.H.

Under the skinful of tattoos, under the random piercings, lies a sweet, gentle man and a wonderful father. Columbus isn't really to your liking (too much snow, not enough of your friends) but you slowly are finding your niche. You deserve the world.

#92 - N.W.

I suppose I hurt you, but I didn't ask for you to fall for me with your puppy-dog devotion. Every time you'd try to kiss me, I'd duck and avoid. You didn't get the hint, so I had to let you know, blatantly.

#90 - T.R.

You are an evil little woman - Coke-bottle glasses, a snub nose, somehow resembling a rat. You expected me to read your mind and ridiculed me when I did not. You hated me because your students liked me more than you. You are a shitty teacher.

#91 - J.R.

I switched to your school to finish my student teaching and was given to you - long, lanky, young, goofy. You slowly transferred your classroom to me, making sure the students respected me. Then you went and bullshitted with the other coaches, which worked just fine.

#89 - J.P.

You are, likely, the strongest person I know. You don't actually need me, but you keep me in your outer circle because you like me, and that is a huge honor. You're a bundle of contradictions - flamboyant yet manly, crass yet thoughtful, gay yet willing. ;)

#88 - J.A.

You preached about how no one is any better than anyone else, but you certainly felt like you were better than me, didn't you? The truth is, for as brilliant as you are, you're working on dad's farm and living with mom. End of story.

#87 - D.D.

Geeky, awkward, confused, you reveled in who you thought you should be. We sat on your bed and listened to Snoop Dogg for hours, calling guys that we thought were cute. You were older, so I followed for a while, but I soon grew bored.

#86 - B.L.

You married an older man with children. He paid for your realtor's license and bought you a little business to run. You use this as an excuse to show your superiority. You're a bimbo, a fake and a bitch - "Bless Jesus!".

#85 - D.L.

I chose to believe that you were misunderstood. Now I know that you are a shady little man, stuck in a cycle of violent boyfriends, misplaced feminine energy, constant drugs and the need to steal. I hate that you're near my son.

#84 - J.B.

Our boss at the rape crisis center, you intimidated me with your no-nonsense attitude and your gruff persona. I'm curious as to how you could counsel victims, but maybe your past made you understand more than I ever could.

#83 - D.M.

I sat next to you in my second time through Algebra 1. I passed notes to you as we muddled through the boredom of summer school. Deep down, I wanted to shock my parents, but you never noticed me as more than a kid sister.

#82 - B.B.

I'm just another one of your friends, another one of your fans, not special in your eyes. Usually. I'm actually okay with that, because you're just another one of my friends, another one of my fans, not special in my eyes. Usually.

#81 - B.A.

The first time I came to your mansion (seriously), it was pouring. You rushed out with an umbrella and escorted me inside. It's instances like that - chivalry, laughter, allowing me to be myself - that my friends didn't see when they called you an asshole.

#80 - A.B.

I met you in a hotel, beneath ground. We shared hysterical, inane laughter, and later concerts and an apartment. I hear stories of your new life in Texas, and I'm delighted that you're happy. Do you think you'll figure out who you really are?

#79 - A.P.

You radiate this positive, I-need-everyone-to-like-me vibe that reminds me of myself. There's a sweetness, an innocence about you, though, that I don't remember ever having. "Conscience cannot stand much violence", but apparently your demeanor somehow withstands that angry house. Please don't ever be like them.

#78 - L.P.

At the wedding this summer, we danced feverishly on the dance floor and made fun of the distant relatives in hushed, giggling tones. At Put-in-Bay, we raced around in golf carts and laughed hysterically. It's likely that, mentally, I am 17, too.

#77 - D.F.

Sitting on the brick walkway that overlooked the ocean near Myrtle Beach, we talked. The smell of beer wafted through the air, and tiny lizards ran around us. You disseminated your adoration of Springsteen, I dispersed facts about Amos, and a mutual respect grew.

#76 - A.W.

You're different now - mean, concerned only with sex and booze. I remember how beautiful you were - deep laugh, chocolate skin, confident stance - and I yearn to bring back my friend. I don't know how much of you is left inside.

#75 - M. K.

In kindergarten, you convinced me to cut my long, pretty hair with a pair of kids' scissors. In 8th grade, you had pool parties all summer and we laughed until it hurt. Always the bad kid, but really, always good.

#74 - E.H.

An intelligent, environmentally-conscious academic, we traded opinions for weeks. I always seemed to be a little less than you - I wouldn't compost, I didn't know the right music, my farmer's market was substandard. At least now, when you're all alone, you're with someone perfect.

#73 - C.B.

On the surface, a perfect life - handsome husband, big house, two cute sons, a good job. Your upbeat personality hides all the pain within - the brother who died far too young, your baby with medical issues. I'm glad you know I'm here for you.

#72 - S. M.

Your laugh is infectious, and we work together really well. Descriptive words for you: beautiful, funny, intelligent, honest. I'm curious as to why you, a year older than me, are on your third marriage, but it's none of my business.

#71 - J. S.

You wrote me a story about dragons which I repeatedly read. Your words were eloquent, descriptive, and tailored just for me. 15 years later, I'm willing to bet that you printed that same story out for dozens of girls and told them the same thing.

#70 - L.M.

Blonde and cute, you walk around with a huge smile on your face. You flirt with married male teachers and are rude to students. You eschew others' ideas in lieu of your own - always. Your kind is the reason I don't really like other women.

#69 - M.P.

You told me to get involved in a food stamp scheme, and I said no, so I was too proud for my own good. When I left your son, you hurled horrible insults at me. I'll never be trash like you.

#68 - J. D.

Your arms were tattooed completely, in Egyptian symbols that weren't filled in. You let me take PERMANENT markers and color them. I spent hours tracing the lines as you watched, amused by my glee. I never called you again - your worth was spent. Sorry.

#67 - R. C.

Skinny, shaking, pale, you were trapped in a cycle of cocaine and self-destruction. My friends told me that you stopped by the house numerous times a day, looking for me. I wanted to help you, but I refused to let myself get sucked in.

#66 - K. W.

You were a war vet, bespeckled, bald, sullen. You kind of moved in for a while, and it was fine. Then, one day, I came home from my birthday dinner and you had left. I think I forgot you before you were gone.

#65 - B. D.

I made it my mission to get you, the muscular, scowling bartender. You lived in a mobile home and we watched Christmas movies in March, bored on the couch. I doubt you ever laughed at one of my jokes.

#64 - M. C.

You were the only guy in most of our English classes, and we were always delighted by your straightness. You always sat by me, and I'd have to hide my hysterical laughter behind the current book. I wish we would have stayed in touch.

#63 - E.F.

An up-and-coming politican, you're a smooth talker who gets what he wants. We went on a few dates this summer, until you "remembered" to tell me about the long-term girlfriend you were trying to dump. Guess you don't get EVERYTHING you want.

#62 - J.W.

I met you when you were 9 months pregnant, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. There's so many horrors in your past that I can never bring myself to judge you. I think it's remarkable that you get out of bed every morning, honestly.

#61 - M.K.

Jovial and upbeat, your tall, lanky frame is a part of many of my high school and college stories. You're married now, living in Canada, and you turned to me when the marriage went bad. I think it's working again, and I'm happy for you.

#60 - K.C.

One day, I came into school early, and I saw you sitting on the desk in your classroom, playing the guitar and singing your heart out. You're kind, but your fanatical piety makes me think you'd actually turn on me in a heartbeat.

#59 - S.J.

Chubby and soft, you have a strong family resemblance to my brothers. Ever since you were 14 or so, you've tasted like beer, always greeting me with a huge hug, a strong kiss, and a wide, welcoming smile.

#58 - M.H.

I hoarded your newspaper articles on a shelf in my closet, proud that I knew someone with such talent. We'd drink coffee and discuss your Ba'hai faith, even in the midst of my anti-religious convictions. Odd, how some farmkid from out west expanded my life.

#57 - V.H.

One day, you told me that you'd had sex with over 200 people. One day, I watched you do coke in a seedy basement. One day, I worshiped the ground you walked on. But then, one day, I grew up, without you.

#56 - M. T.

A gorgeous man who taught at OSU, you took me to exotic restaurants where you ordered for me in your native tongue. You would stop and pray anywhere, and it made me so uncomfortable that we never got past platonic.

#55 - J.I.

I was new in town, and we used to hang out at bars where you drank martinis. Then we'd go back to your apartment and have sex in a dark room. I'd slide out at 5 in the morning and get coffee from Bob Evan's.

#54 - L.R.

Patient, you quietly expressed disapproval at my marriage. When I left him, you and your wife cleaned the house, moved me out, let us stay with you, and kept our pets. You've taken care of me for ten years - you are truly like my brother.

#53 - C.C.

A FORMER Marine (yes, I got it right), you'd give me little homework assignments about your life and interests. We spent more time hiking than anything else, but I enjoyed my time with you. I bet your girls have grown up to be wonderful young women.

#52 - N.S.

An 18-year-old hippie throwback, your hair is long and blonde, always back in a ponytail. You complain about politics NONSTOP and you get your facts wrong much of the time. If you tell me you're "straightedge" one more time, I may hurl.

#51 - A.G.

Slightly geeky, with a gentle smile and a huge heart, you were the first boy I ever really loved. You're married now, to a chubby girl from your hometown, and it seems like you're happy. I find it odd that I don't miss you.

#50 - C.M.

Needy, with pimples and a nervous laugh, the bad boys I adored adopted you as their pet. You were an excellent follower. Later, I learned how bad your home life really was, and I cringed in shame for not trying to help.

#49 - S.J.

I met you at a wedding that I attended with the ex boyfriend that everyone hated. A year later, I walked into my new job, and you were my boss. You're supportive and mildly disapproving about my teaching style, but you're good at heart.

#48 - M. L.

You were a tough, chubby Mexican boy who was a secret sweetheart. The first time for both of us, we planned it carefully. My parents were gone. It was over fast. Afterwards, we hung out sometimes, but it wasn't the same without the sexual tension.

#47 - M.M.

I sat behind you in class and pulled your curls until you decided to be my friend. Married with two kids and a house, you're still the silly girl who pushed me into bed between her and her fiance so we could watch American Pie.

#45 - E.P.

Bossy, brash, emotional and self-conscious, you are, however, the embodiment of love. I am more like you than I will ever admit. Some of us you forgive and forgive, and others get banished without a second thought. You will always be on my side.

#44 - J.B.

A gorgeous, blonde football player who wittily uses sarcasm, you make me laugh uproariously every time you're in the room. Your girlfriend uses you, and you know, but you stay with her out of kindness. You're more of a man than many guys my age.

#43 - G.M.

It's hard to describe you, but I'm fascinated by your lack of assimilation. I'm drawn to your confidence, your sarcasm, your talent, your information. When you pause before your next word, I learn forward a little in anticipation. I hope you're worth the infatuation.

#42 - T.S.

You watch my little boy every day, and I never worry. You innately discern the issues with a lack of a partner in raising him, and you give me advice about discipline, potty training, and Christmas presents. I can't thank you enough for the support.

#41 - C.G.

At first, you were just too nice. Then you showed me that you had a wicked side, awkwardly. By the time you started listing your past indiscretions in order to impress me, I was done. Slow down with the confessions next time.

#40 - G.C.

Haitian and Canadian, you're the most darkly handsome hockey official I've ever seen. You love Coldplay, telling stories of your frat days, and drinking beer with the boys at your uppity bar. You, um, realize that you're black, right?

#39 - J.H.

You live in a tiny, dirty house that is teeming with your relatives. Somehow, you found a way to commit another felony, and you're going to jail for at least a year. Your sweet little boy deserves better than you and your twisted family.

#38 - R.L.P.

We'd play our own version of Hearts for hours. I sat on your lap and read books with you, over and over. I was cranky when you left that night, and you never came back. Thank you for the best of me.

#37 - H. P.

Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, you'd lay me on my stomach and run your fingers up my back, mimicking ants at a picnic. The strongest person I've ever known, you had a background full of pain and shame and loss. I miss you.