Wes (2007)

Formerly known as best friend; that is, till I found out he provided my philandering ex-fiancé with an alibi. Nevertheless, I miss him. I miss amusing him with accounts of my boss’s random acts of clueless egotism, which always made me find the humor in them myself. I miss sipping vodka and doing the dishes with him after his dinner parties, while everyone else practically passed out in the living room from too much good food and wine. And I miss his unconscionably divine cooking, which has no apparent effect on his lanky frame. It’s as hard to stay angry at Wes here as it is to feel more than an abstract sense of heartbreak over the man I could have married.