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man's best friend
It's the strangest thing. All of my life I've been the girl that guys love to have for a friend. Hell, I'm such a good friend that they call me and tell me all of their woes and hopes and dreams and fantasies. We drink beer and talk about fishin' and hunting and how the girlfriend/wife doesn't give him what he needs. We can watch NASCAR and play in the woods or just hang out. Good old Poopie understands him.

I never did learn how to do that "bat-your-eyelashes" thing that men seem to be enthralled with because I don't know how to do games and, frankly, it seems like a waste of precious time here on earth. With me there is no mysterious "wonder what's on her mind." If I feel it or think it, pretty damn soon it will come rolling out of my big fat mouth, often accompanied by snot slingin' and tears. I can honestly say that I've never fallen in love. For me, love has come several times in the form of a friendship that reveals itself to be just what I needed at the moment to bring out the best and worst of who I am. Warts and all, so to speak. I don't say the words I LOVE YOU lightly or without fear. When they pass my lips, a fellow can be sure he's something special because, well...I'm a discerning kind of woman.

Maybe I have a guy's brain in a woman's body? OMG! *makes mental note to check testosterone level* Or maybe....just MAYBE...I'm the low maintenance kind of female that men say they long for. You know. The kind that acts like a woman but thinks like a man. Sometimes. When the mood strikes. And he's giving me proper appreciation and bearing gifts.

But not when he's running like hell back to the comfort zone.

Never, ever then.
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