Feeling: protective
Listening to: Blue October - Congratulations
Reading/Watching: Desperate Housewives, in about 10 minutes

I am a girl with several male friends. The situation is only a product of the past three or four years, because I used to be so confused and tongue-tangled around boys that I was hopeless at communicating with them on any level, especially not in the casual way of friends.

But then, somehow, it just wound up that way. Boys are simple. Boys say what they mean (even if it's insensitive or rude), boys don't play games to see how much you care about them, boys don't get offended if you spend five minutes sitting quietly, not talking. They hardly notice; they're too busy babbling on about whatever they want to talk about. And generally (generally), they may get pissed when I'm honest, but they still appreciate it later.

So now I have my boys. They're not even in a neatly organized clump anymore: it used to be me and the Air Force Boys, and now we're a bit more fragmented. Each of them is exasperating, sometimes immature, sometimes capable of weird insight, fun to hug, and usually turns into a total puppy when around a girl he likes. It used to be that I met new girlfriends, and could make private (but accurate) predictions of exactly how the relationship was going to go. They didn't require my stamp of approval or anything, but... they liked having it.

But they were my boys. They are still: no matter how grown they are, now matter how far they get from being goofy, single twenty-year-olds, they are my boys. And I love them, and I am fiercely protective of them. They'd be insulted if I said it was almost a maternal thing, but seriously, it's the same instinct. I want them to be happy and peaceful and I want them to become better people and I want them to find all the love and safety and confidence that a healthy relationship brings. When I see a girl come along who has the potential to crush one of them, I get all kinds of prickly and cautious. When I see a girl who's honestly sweet and makes my boy laugh, I befriend her (which is easy; if he likes her that much, I do too) and try to give her the inside scoop on him, cheat sheets to the weird boy-things he does. Bonus points if she's smart enough not to feel threatened by me.

But nothing makes my claws come out faster than seeing one of my boys get hurt. Nothing makes me want to rant and rave and give a lecture on The Shitty Head Games That Girls Play To Get Attention more than seeing someone, well, play shitty head games to get attention, and seeing my boy hurting because of it.

So witnessing a recent disastrous conversation is making me want to do some hair-pulling. Sure, I'm not dating all of them, I'm not in love with all of them, but they are my boys, whether they're air force, choir boy, theater nut, or all of the above. Best treat them well, bitches, or I swear, I will find a way. I'm resourceful.

Comments? 2 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.