Last night I was having a hormonal pity party and a friend’s perfectly timed messages gave me space to indulge in the feelings and then forced perspective, because I can choose how I want to react to the life I get to live. It inspired a moment where I wanted to enjoy another post on gratitude. This one won’t just be about men though. It’ll mainly be about men. Isn’t it always about a boy?
Thank you for noticing me and telling me you did. That unexpected compliment was perfectly timed, but then they all are.
Thank you for wanting revenge on my behalf and respecting the higher road I’ve been dancing on.
Thank you for trusting me with your darkness and fully embracing mine.
Thank you for teaching me new things and being patient with my ability to make a simple problem complex. It’s a super power.
Thank you for never making me feel the burden of what I did to your life. I imagined what it was to find out I was coming and my version looks nothing like what you have always made me feel. You amaze me.
Thank you for all of the loving pet names you use in our conversations that remind me that I am special to you.
Thank you for the trips down memory lane that we can laugh at now that you are no longer a 15 year old virgin. Sorry for the power I enjoyed holding over you and the fun I had at your expense.
Thank you for making me feel like one of the guys. Pizza and beer with a stogie and Monday night football are still happy memories.
Thank you for that amazing summer. I can’t think of Manhattan Beach without remembering our friendship. I wouldn’t want to.
Thank you for accepting that I grew out of my Freakzilla phase, but I want you to know I hold onto what I learned because of our deep conversations and your perspective.
Thank you for teaching me that exercise should always look like play.
Thank you for acknowledging that I had the ability to hurt others and for showing me I didn’t have to.
Thank you for trusting that I will fight for you for as long and as hard as it takes because that is who I am.
Thank you for being my wing-man, and understanding that not everyone deserves an introduction while laughing at my insane reasons for rejection.
Thank you for rooting for me.
Thank you for feeling like you need to feed me. It’s sweet.
Thank you for the hug that felt like I was cradled and safe and words weren’t necessary.
Thank you for the amazing you handed me without my ever needing to ask.
Thank you for going with my zany thoughts and ideas and never feeling like they needed to be smaller for you.
Thank you for indulging in my food joy moments that made no sense to you until you tasted what I had in mind.
Thank you for your spontaneity and the excitement you gave me when I gave you a yes.
Thank you for gelato when you knew I needed it.
Thank you for making things easy when I could only see obstacles in front of me.
Thank you for listening to me rant, and not trying to offer anything more than an ear.
Thank you for believing in me and putting your money where your trust was.
Thank you for not pushing when you saw me withdraw.
Thank you for showing me how affected you are by me.
Thank you for telling me more than you were comfortable sharing.
Thank you for teaching me how to throw a punch and what part of my foot to use to nail that roundhouse kick.
Thank you for teaching me how to change a tire. And thank you for paying for my roadside assistance so I didn’t have to.
Thank you for picking me up and taking me out to lunch.
Thank you for unexpected flowers and cards.
Thank you for our girl dates and pedicures and letting me tell you the many things you saw before I could.
Thank you for being polite. And thank you for not being polite.
Thank you for disappearing from the world, but taking me with you.
Thank you for telling me all the things you adore about me.
Thank you for showing me that only the really great ones should end up in the friendzone.
Thank you for telling me that a whore sleeps with everyone, but a bitch sleeps with everyone but you, and accepting that sometimes there is no sleeping with anyone.
Thank you for helping me pick out a skirt, even though you hated shopping for women’s clothes as much as I did.