I Love Men

After last week I figure I should officially make that announcement should anyone assume otherwise.

Just because I choose to write mostly about my (failed) relationships that is not an automatic translation into man hating land. Yeah, many of the men who’ve crossed my romantic path haven’t panned out but that is hardly a testament to testoerone’s inferior ranking.

On the love front in particular, I have two ex-boyfriends and an ex-husband who I respect immensely and who have been there for me on more than one occasion . . . as friends. In fact, I don’t think I could have gotten through this most recent dating debacle without the affirmation of one of my ex-romantic interests.

“He’s a douche bag, Audra! This wasn’t your fault, you’re trusting and wonderful. HIS LOSS.”

(Thanks, Bobby. You always did have a way with words.)

And of course, my family is made up of many men who hold the pillars of my life story in their strong arms. My dad, the eternal jokester, who’s made me laugh all of my life and instilled a similar sense of humor within my being. My grandpa, handy man extrodinaire. The last time he was at my house he insisted on WD40ing every hinge in my house. I shall never creak or squeak again with Grandpa around. And my brother, the favorite uncle who gives endless four wheeler rides and makes up silly jokes with his two nieces. My daughter’s lives are full of adventurous jump ditching and endless laughter thanks to him.

How could I hate men with these great guys all around me?

And of course, the boyfriends and husbands of all of my friends provide a steady presence when I need to borrow them. Anna’s husband took me to the vet to put a pet down on a difficult summer’s day. His quiet compassion enveloped me as he handed me tissue after tissue and consistently assured me I’d done the loving thing on the long drive home.

In other damsel in distress moments, Carmen’s cop boyfriend will rush over immediately if I am ever scared (what was that noise? Do I have an intruder?).

“I’ll be right over, Audra. With the gun.”

And of course, age old friendships I’ve cultivated with boys who have become men sustain me year after year. One monitors my moods via my Facebook status. The moment I post anything cryptic, he’s right there.

“Hey, saw your post. You okay? Need a drink? Or ten?”

Men, at least the ones in my life, are wonderful.

Every single one.

Eventually I’ll find one to play a romantic role, I’m sure.

But in the meantime?

I’ve got plenty of help in life at times that require someone be branded a “douche,” WD40 be administered, alcohol be consumed , or a gun be displayed.

Thanks, guys.

You’re the best!