My “Ode to Men”

I started this letter with someone specific in mind. I genuinely wanted to apologize for something. In the end, I don’t even remember the point I was trying to make. But, here goes…

Dear X,

I will begin this letter openly and honestly by saying I have no idea why I am writing you today. Maybe it’s because of some deep-seared guilt I hold and carry around with wherever I go. Maybe I need to make amends. I really don’t know for sure. But, I do know this,

You are, whether you like it or not, a signifcant male figure in my life. If history serves me right, and it always does, that means our relationship is or will become broken. Give it time! It will happen.

I have always found a way to tater and ruin ALL of my male friendships or relationships in general. I can’t explain why. I love men! I think men are the greatest.

Handsome and hairy. Tall, to reach thkngs up high. Strong, so you can open pickle jars. You are often wise beyond your years while simultaneously being a goofy, little child. You have a sttong sense of pride. You can separate emotiond from any other aspect of life, which rarley leaves you vulnerable. You all have an amazing sebse of humor. You are self aware. You’re handy and brilliant when it comes to solvonf problems or fixing things. When you start something, you never leave it unfinished. Those of you who respect women, adore women with their heart and soul. Men are extremely sexy! So hot! A man’s physique can be sexy fat, skinny, short, or talk. I love men!

But, even with all of the love and respect I have for the opposite sex, my relationships with men ia skewed, broken, complicated.

Why?

Is it because I’ve been lied to by men? Is it because I fall in love with every man I get close to? Is it because I hpld men to a certain standard? Is it because I am intimidated by them? Is it becausr my emotions are fickle; one moment, I don’t want to be touched, then the next moment, I cry because no one will hold me? Why is wrong with me? I have been hurt by women before, several times, actually, and it hurts just as much, but for some reason, I always give women a pass for their fucked up behaviours. I always justify it somehow. But men, I interpret every action extremely personally. I love men so hard that when I end up being hurt by them, it fucks with my head and my heart for a long time. And, I carry those heavy feelings around with me, spewing it back at the next man I get close to, a vicious cycle that I don’t know how to correct.

Which leads me to the point of this letter.

I never ended up finishing the letter. I only read my “ode to men” over and over again. And cried…

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