This is for the last few years. And the friends I have made in them. I have met many, many men. Oh there have been many. I am not even slightly embarrassed about that. Why should I be? I have met creeps and weirdos and men who are a little bad and men who are vile and then some men who are just plain good. Men who look at you with clean eyes, and even if they break your heart, they sit with you while you glue it back together. Men who take the time out to call and ask about little hurts and listen patiently while you rouse the echoes with your laments, and men who hold you while you cry without wanting to be held in return. Men who smell like bread. Fresh and wholesome and basic. Men who don’t expect you be their anything. Men who have seen you at your worst and met you after years and still just been there in the time in between. Men you get along with like a house on fire, and those who don’t mind your quirks. Men who have let me trust. It takes a lot of sifting to find them, these ones. And I’m so glad I did, because today, when I am alone, I know I’m not. I have a cocoon of care and love and so much frank advice it would make you blush. All around me, keeping me safe. Letting me be the spoilt child that I am.
And it’s the best thing that has happened to me. I have found good men, and they have stuck around.