#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.