one of my bestfriends in school.  you were smart, witty, and so sweet.  it was a very long time before i forgave myself for your suicide.  that you had so much despair pent up without my knowledge, will always haunt me.

proof that teachers are bullies too.  your best example was of what not to be.  you belittled those who most needed you and i despised you for it.  i never missed an opportunity to call you on your bullying and mean-spiritedness.

our adopted ‘grandma’, no gathering complete without you, no dance as fun.  even when you couldn’t hear what was being said, you were happy to just be where we were.  i loved you. i loved your energy. i loved your spirit.

met you during ‘girls night out’ and we adopted you as our teddy bear.  always available for dancing. i taught you to waltz and gave you my hat. you looked out for me and my friends and scared off the kooks

my partner in crime, we were inseparable.  we shared clothes, boys, and played hooky.  when you ran away from home, i gave you a place to stay.  you stole from me and ditched every one of us that cared about you.

I didn’t like you when i first met you.  you won me over.  and then went after every boy i ever liked.  when your father decided you were too good for me, you let him.  i knew the truth by then.

sat down in the smoking room one day and helped me with a crossword puzzle, little did i know he’d become my bestfriend.  people made snotty remarks about our “affair”… and we let them.  after all, the joke was on them.

when asked why she worked in a soup kitchen feeding men of “questionable repute”, she replied “jesus said to feed the hungry, he didn’t say which hungry.” she offered me a ride home when I was 5 and I ran away.

7th & 8th spanish teacher.  you hated peanut butter, we gave you a case.  you hated mums, we brought you a bouquet.  and always you smiled and thanked us.  when i needed someone, you were there when no one else was. 

first person I ever met online and you’ve become family.  dancing on the furniture at the club; holidays together; not answering your page when we’d snuck to rennfest; and a bizarre sense of humor to match my own.  best roommate EVER.

when i was little, you were the voice of god and taking communion, i was terrified that you’d see all the bad things i’d done.  after the church bazaars, i remember all of us sitting in the floor, singing protestant hymns.

you belittled all of my friends, and when you finally graduated from college, your daughter was too good for me.  once you stood outside of your house, waiting for my parents, to tell them that black boys had driven me home.

you were my 4th grade teacher.  every morning you’d meet me at the classroom door.  you’d hug me, ask about my bestfriend, who’d had your class the year before, and how she was doing, but you never could remember my name. 

early morning breakfasts and crossword puzzles, we’d way too much time to kill and i couldn’t have had a better partner in crime.  you were quite possibly the sweetest person i’ve met and you made me a part of your family.

square dancing; late nights of poker ("pot pot pot!!!"); sitting by your pool ‘til the dawn breaked, solving the world’s problems; camping in the rain; you giving to anyone in need without question.  i loved you and i miss you terribly. 

5th grade.  we rarely ever spoke.  you’d come to school in dirty clothes.  hair unkempt.  bruises all over.  something was obviously amiss.  you did poorly in school and the teacher hated you.  she’d bully you relentlessly and it made me angry.

you demanded that i think for myself, challenged everything that i believed.  at times, i almost hated you, yet i couldn’t have asked for a better friend.  spenser for hire, springsteen blaring in that old malibu, and you as james dean.

bold, brash, and beautiful.  always the center of attention, we all adored you.  willing to not only listen, but to hear.  you rescued me in line at a haunted house and opened up the world to me.  i am forever grateful.