28:365 Sara...
... frequently found fault yet rarely recognised her own. Her condecending ways with strangers left others, not her, shamed. Pontificating, her speciality. Our shared past was more against us than one that would bind us forever...
27:365 Lidia Olga...
... is motherly, sometimes. Exasperating, often. Portuguese, always. She worries and protects. She guides and cares. She's the voice in my head and the presence in my life. She's the foundation for the very essence of me...
26:365 Peter...
... was my grandfather that I, sadly, barely remember. Although I'm often reminded how he doted on me. In my minds eye I can still see him, sitting in his chair, just weeks before he died...
25:365 Gordon...
... saved my mother from the potential of lonely twilight years. Quiet and studious. His patience knows no end. We share knowing glances on occasions, as he too understands my mother's wonderfully varied way with words...
24:365 Philip...
... is a father in name only. He left before I began to walk. Our connection is fractured and feeble. His eyes see not me only my mother. My eyes see not a father only impotence...
23:365 Martin...
... father of Ben. Master of the inappropriate. At his son's wedding, as I danced with him (at the mercy of his wandering hands), he declared to me: "ahh, if only I were 20 years younger"...
22:365 Mel...
... was so fixated on the business she forgot where she started. Making crushing demands on us all. Such an uptight, workaholic, borderline neurotic. When her husband left her for someone 'different' our surprise was minimal...
21:365 Ben...
... was my tight-trousered, long-haired, metal-god, lover. A non-smoking, teetotal, sweet-tempered enigma. Ben had the sensibilities of a thoroughly good boy with the alluringly exotic packaging of a decidedly bad boy...
20:365 Claudia...
... brings 'melodrama' to life. Overbearing though essentially well-meaning. With a wine-fuelled perspective in constant flux. Seemingly never content. To her the grass is always much greener on the other side of the fence...
19:365 Jamie...
... and I were inseparable one long hot summer. We rode the pavement on 'boards and built strange things with sticks and tape. A roguish, blonde, blue-eyed devil with the disarming charm of an angel...
18:365 Steve...
... is quiet, contemplative and unassuming. And then he'll say something that leaves me hanging on his words. I imagine him the source of Plato's declaration "a wise man speaks because he has something to say -"...
17:365 Mandy...
... dated David before I did. All bleach blonde crop and red lipstick. Her appearance exuded a status more 'grown-up' than mine. Initially a source of great intimidation. Until I realised she wasn't that different...
16:365 Jo...
... real name, Joan. Use it and she won't answer. Headstrong. Independent. Foster mother to many cats. She's me, but older. Jo will always be many, many, things to me. She's an inspiration. And my aunt...
15:365 Adam...
... sidled up at the blackjack table. I knew at once I was powerless. After a brief interlude (3 weeks) he confessed his true status (separated). Our time was succinct. He eventually returned to his wife...
14:365 Miss Jones...
... lived next door when I was young. Shy and reclusive. I rarely saw her. And we never knew her full name. But she gave sanctuary to our cat. Presumably from the madness of our house...
13:365 Nicki...
... hit my consciousness like a supernova. I knew at first glance that we'd be friends. She was often on the wrong side of crazy. But then crazy caught up with her. And she bearly survived...
12:365 Matthew...
... stole my heart age 11. Eight years he held it without care. Tall, blonde, everything my teenage self desired. But at 19 I'd matured and understood precisely his worth. Exactly then he finally realised mine...
11:365 Lorna...
... had the eyes of a porcelain doll and a dancer's body. She used both to her best advantage, often. I recognised her confidence and vulnerability. But to a casual observer only the confidence shone through...
10:365 Patrick...
... black sheep and catalyst of dark family secrets. At the time I was too young to understand the repercussions of it all. Generous. Somewhat shady. And undoubtably weak. Patrick, also known as persona non grata...
9:365 Hannah...
... was my great-grandmother. A quiet matriarch. When I was young I believed she'd live forever. At 104 she told me "they think I'm senile, but I'm not". At 108 she took her last breath...
8:365 Steve...
... a blind date gone wrong. Wrong in that we were together too long. And during that time he continually surprised me with his verbal and physical abuse. Once I understood he'd never change, I left...
7:365 Jackson Cain...
... has an exotic beauty. When he looks at me with his Mona Lisa smile it's like he's seeing my soul. Such potency at three years old. Just imagine the power he'll have as an adult...
6:365 Ambreen...
... once said something that made absolute sense: "I'm not trying to figure out what I want to do. I'm eliminating what I don't want to do". She provided perfect clarity, exactly when it was needed...
5:365 Miguel...
... a beautiful, dark-eyed Spanish man. I'll always wish I'd had confidence to admit to him that I like him. Still, even now, when he smiles it makes my heart beat with a different rhythm...
4:365 George...
... is actually just a friend. He has a predilection for vodka that makes him mostly entertaining. But sometimes, not. He said "c'mon... let's go and have violent sex". Hmmm... really unappealing to me however presented...
3:365 Charlotte...
... my beautiful, younger, half-sister. I struggle to maintain a connection with Charlotte. There's a 17 year age gap. I love her and I'll always be here for her. But we're almost a generation apart...
2:365 David...
... was my first love. Kind and gentle. He drove a VW Beetle. We were together for what seems like ages (at that age). He cried when we split up and I'll always regret causing that...
1:365 Molly...
... was my grandmother. When I was younger she cared for me while mom was working. She was warm, loving and incredibly patient. She died many years ago. I wish she'd known me as an adult...
