Friends on Fridays - Boy #2

Josh and I have been friends for a LONG time.  We're talking 12+ years long time.  His family was my family my last two years of high school.  If I wasn't at home or at work, you could bet money on me being at Josh's house.  We would cuddle under his blue sleeping bag and take naps.  I would lay on his living room floor while he banged continuously on his drums.  This is the boy who nearly broke my nose on his trampoline.

Josh and I fell out of touch in the months before I got pregnant with Aiden.  For a long time I thought I was in love with him, and I was certain that he would never be able to feel the same things back, or that he wanted to, but would never allow himself to.  It's amazing how things like love get jumbled up in our hearts and our heads when we're young.

It took me close to a decade to realize that my love for this boy was not the love you felt for a lover, but rather the love you felt for a friend, or a brother. 

In the last year, more than ever, Josh has served as my sounding board.  He is always there when I need him, only a text message away.  He has assured me, on too many occasions to count, that I am not a terrible mother, that I am not a terrible friend, that people LOVE me.  He makes his point known in a way that is loving but firm.  There is a no nonsense stance to him, and it has only ever gotten stronger as we've gotten older.  This man probably knows more about me than most people, only because he's known me long enough to be able to call me on my bullshit.  When he tells me things, I know they are true.  There is no questioning with Josh.

He took care of me when I was too drunk to walk.  He was my textual shoulder to cry on in the several occasions when it felt like my world was crumbling in on itself for various reasons.  He is the constant reassurance that I have a friend, who wants to be my friend, simply for the sake of being my friend.

I spent a lot of my high school years being mad at him.  Not for what he did, but what he failed to do, and that was fall head over heels in love with me.  Only now am I realizing that perhaps he did, but it was just a different kind of love.

Cheers, Josh.  Here's to another decade of pissing each other off and being there all at the same time.  I love you!

Friends on Fridays - Heterosexual Lifemates

Tancy and I met back in early May of 2004.  Aiden was just over five months old, and Tancy was around 6 months pregnant, and as round as a beach ball.  She was loud and crude, and frankly, scared the poop out of me.  We worked together for around 4 years before she changed departments.  We stayed in contact through random run-ins at work, our children's birthday parties, and going to friend's places and drinking.  I can honestly say that there wasn't ever a time I DIDN'T like her.

It was because of her that I was finally able to get out of the Nutrition department at the hospital.  She vied for me for Materials Management, talked me up, and finally walked into my boss's office one day and just said "Are you going to hire Sadie now?"  He did.

Over the last two years, she has become sort of like a lifeline for me.  She is the person who is (usually) always there, via text or phone when I need her.  She is a realist who will not sugar coat things.  She tells me things like they are, whether or not I want to hear them.  She plays a very good devils advocate, but at the same time is excellent at listening without giving opinions.  She is my wife.  There is no other way to describe her.  No one on this planet can read me better than she can.  We fight like we're married, we party like we're siblings, and she has brought out a part of me that I didn't know was buried in there for a very long time.

She has been there through two of the toughest breakups of my life.  She has listened to me cry, and let me be the crazy drunk.  She hasn't judged when I tell her that I want to sit at home and eat a pound of chocolate and not talk to anyone all weekend long, and she proudly wears her "team edward" shirt next to me in the theater while I'm wearing my "team jacob" shirt.  We have seen the last two (soon to be three) twilight saga movies at the theater around noon on opening day.  It took me seven years, but I finally talked her into reading the Harry Potter series.

She shares my love of books, sexy male celebrities, and noisy body functions.  This woman can burp like no man I have EVER heard burp before.  We both have seven year old boys, so stories about wieners and them walking around naked, are endless.  She, literally, lives next door to me.  Our bedroom windows face each other, and though we don't make a habit of looking into each other's bedroom windows (though we have had a conversation or two through them in the afternoons and early evenings,) it's sometimes just nice to know, as a single person, that one of my favorite people is only 15 seconds away.

Do I always like the decisions she makes, or the things she chooses to do?  Hell no.  But I think she knows that I will support HER no matter what her decisions are, even if I don't agree with them. 

This next Tuesday is her last day in my department at the hospital.  She's moving on to bigger and better things.  "You're going to be so mad at me!" was the phone call I got when she told me about being offered a new position elsewhere.  And I'm not mad.  I am so beyond happy for her.  Neither of us is destined to remain a Supply Tech for the rest of our lives.  We're both too smart and driven for that.  She just happened to be the first to make it out of the trappings of the catholic health system.  I am so happy, and boundlessly proud of her for that.  It's really going to SUCK not having my best friend there day in and day out.  I'm going to have to find other people to converse with, seek advice from, and waste my time with.  I have no doubt that I'm going to get by just fine without her there, it's just not going to be as enjoyable.

So this is to my heterosexual lifemate.  My wife that we don't touch wet spots.  I love you!

Friends on Fridays (giving something new a try)

In my desire to start loving myself (even if it's just a little bit), I have decided to start doing something on Fridays in which I give back a little bit of the love that I get.  I want the people in my life to know how much I care about them, how thankful I am that they are in my life, and the debts I owe to all of them are endless.  I have so many friends that I consider to be my family that I know this will take me a long time to get through everyone, but I think it'll be worth it.

It wasn't hard try to figure out who I was going to start with.  Over the last thirteen years, this woman has been a shoulder for me to cry on.  We finally met face to face 8 years ago, and though I don't see her nearly enough, she is there for me in ways that most people who are HERE are not.  She understands me without judging, she loves me without asking for anything in return.  She has been my rock through my last two break-ups.  The person on the other end of the phone when I am a blubbering mess and crying so hard that I can't even get the words out.

She is fierce and fabulous, beautiful and genuine.  The most real person I know.  She would give a stranger her coat, defend a friend for no other reason than they are her friend, and she can make even the most traumatic of situations bearable.  She has made me laugh when I am crying. 

She is Clare.

Clare and I met online, back in the late summer of 1998.  We shared a love of Hanson, and of writing and creating websites to feature our writings and photos and boring high school lives.  We met for the first time in 2003 when I was about 6 months pregnant.  We bought her a scalped ticket for the Hanson show, ate a pizza that was bigger than both of our heads combined, and she protected me and my ever growing belly in a sea of women trying to get on stage.  She grabbed Taylor's pinkie finger and held on for dear life.

I talked with her on the basement stairs at D's house when things were good with us.  I whispered quietly to her about how much I loved him.  She was the first person to call me when I sent out the S.O.S. the night we broke up.  She stayed on the other end of the phone with me, even when I was so immersed in tears that I couldn't breathe.  She reminded me of the words my mother had told her when she was heart broken.  "Don't accept anything less than a man who absolutely adores you."

She was the first person to come to mind when I decided to write this, because she was also someone who was unrelentingly there last night when I realized that D was actively seeking another relationship, not even a month after the break-up.  I felt worthless, and like I never mattered to him.  Ever.

"You're so mean to my friend Sadie."  She said to me. "Learn to love her recklessly, with no excuses.  Life is too short.  You're the fucking best."

So here I am, trying.  Trying to learn to love me, regardless of my faults.  Thanking the one person who has believed in me even when I've been endlessly stupid. 

Thank you, Clare.  For loving me, for being there for me, and for telling me what I NEED to hear, not what I WANT to hear.

I love you!