We did it.

Matt. I name him. He was my first love and all the stuff that goes with it. In a fancy hotel room.

There were others but they didn’t count.

Another Matt before Matt. He was 23. I was so much cooler because he was so much older. In his bedroom.

That guy who broke my heart. I won’t name him. He was in love with someone else. It broke me for a long time.

That guy I met at one of the first Summadayze parties. I was pill popping, good looking, bikini wearing back then. Back seat of a car.

Double N. Double life. I own the words but we shared the experience. Only fair to let someone be the person they should have been.

That really good looking guy. I can’t remember his name. We met at Crown Casino and really that says it all. Back of a car outside my house. Just because he was so good-looking and everyone said so. That was enough back then.

That guy that I called my Danish Pastry because I couldn’t remember his name. I knew he was Danish. One night on a beach in Barcelona.

Yet another Matt. We met on the Amalfi Coast at a train station. I can’t remember his surname. Maybe I never got it. Don’t even know how it happened. In a bunk bed in a full hostel room. I didn’t like him that much.

Police man. It was serious. Four years. We were meant to get married or something. We went to France. But he never moved to Melbourne.

The Spanish name for an Indonesian boy living in Sydney. Doomed from the start. A holiday romance that went on and on and was gorgeous and delicious and hurt me in the end.

The Artist. It’s a serious connection but is it serious? What’s the difference between sex and love?

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