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I was talking with The Brother Of My Heart the other day about The Infamous Friend Zone.
Everyone out there refers to this emotional space as if it’s some kind of relationship purgatory, when in fact, it’s just the opposite.
Let me tell what The Friend Zone is in My Life and what the relationships who live there mean to me.
I have many friendships with men. Some spanning decades — at some point in time I began to look upon these relationships with more trust and more currency than I placed in nearly every romantic coupling.
I can’t tell you at what point in time the men in The Friend Zone became Family — My Brothers — but that is what most of them have evolved into. A brotherhood of kind, good, dependable Humans who love me just as I am.
And that is fucking huge.
They are men who will bring me food when I’m sick. They take my bike for me and keep it in their basement in the winter. They come when I call — to help me unfasten rusted bolts on my toilet tank or change smoke detector batteries in the 9-foot ceiling in my bedroom when I can’t make my folding ladder work.
They take me on motorcycle rides. Oddly enough — nearly all of them ride. They take my phone calls at three am and assure me — This too shall pass — whatever This might be.
