No, this was not a situation where both of my fathers were lovers nor was I an adopted child to two men who wanted one of their own. One father was the one who taught me how to bait my own fishing pole, drive a manual-shift car, fire a shotgun into an open country field and hold my own when it came to self-defense. My other father had shed the importance of being sure I selected the right man to be in a relationship with. The right man to father my future children with and most importantly, how not to settle for one who did not display the actions of a real man, even though he was born with a penis and testicles between his legs. To a woman continuing to blossom and grow into her own, both fathers instilled great gems that I would be able to carry on throughout the rest of my life. They were my versions of true love! (more…)
So as I was exchanging comments on a post that I read over at Writings Of A Single Girl about a set of her friends, it dawned on me. Isn’t it weird how you can be friends for over 14 years with a person and know them like the back of your hand. They’re like your missing sister or brother that you’ve never had.
And then as you relocate to different states (or just areas), you end up meeting someone else who your heart just bonds with. They too become one of your “back of the milk carton” siblings and you would go out of your way to make sure that they’re good. You’ve got their back no matter what. This person ends up being your friend for about 5-6 years.