The Men I’ve Loved

Now that I have your attention...

I have always been envious of the relationships that women are able to make with one another. Women are extremely talented at making life long friends that they lean on and glean from on a daily basis. They show exceptional loyalty and kindness to one another and rarely do they allow anything to infiltrate or destroy their bond. It is truly remarkable. The levels of intimacy that women share with their girlfriends’ rivals the relationships that some develop with the men they love.

Men are very different. Most men never know the joy of developing a strong and meaningful relationship with other men. Many men rely on women to provide them with a place of comfort and support. No matter how intuitive a woman may be, it is virtually impossible for her to understand the pitfalls and triumphs of manhood. Truly, she can only lead a man towards her individual understanding of the ideal women. The inherit flaw in this guidance is that most women learn everything they know about men from other women.

With all of the opportunities that men have to bond, one would think that friendships between men would be an effortless endeavor. Choose any state in America and you will find men congregating on basketball courts, golf courses, poker tables, and pool halls. These masculine meeting places are actually serve as a one of many causes for poor male bonding.

Men compete.

This is a two-word sentence that falls in line with all of the rules of grammar and social life. Men compete in every aspect of their lives and they’ve been competing since (pardon the crass observation) before the beginning of their own creation. I need not go into detail of the very first “race” that every man breathing has claimed victory. Even after conception, men were born to compete and conquer. Though probably not the first words a man utters, “I betcha” is a phrase that every man is familiar with. This constant state of competition makes it extremely difficult to find companionship beyond the realm of allies. A man doesn’t even need a competitive nature to understand the value of winning and the follies of losing. How is it possible to divulge my deepest darkest secrets to a man who will at some point serve as my adversary? Secrets serve as weapons when chasing the same victory, woman, or job. A man who divulges too much of himself to another man will only be devoured by that man when they inevitably face one another.

Another hindrance of men creating mutual relationships is the stereotypes that we have accepted that define a man. As a child, both men and women taught me that strength was my principle attribute. I was told repeatedly that in order to be a real man I would have to hide my feelings for the sake of the woman that would depend on my strength. Even during the transitional period of my teen years, the idea that a man is a rock is constantly reinforced. Unfortunately that rock was not the source of support it should have been, but a rigid, immovable object. The man has been defined in movies, sports, and music erroneously for years. He has been typecast as a misogynist, a sexist, and worst of all completely dependent on himself. Men are rarely taught to depend on each other but forced to lean on their own often-distorted views of life.

This is not to say that as men we are all stumbling through life, however it does mean that when we stumble we find ourselves alone in the fall. In my own life God has blessed me with men who have served as mentor, confidant, and friend. Though at times seemingly fleeting, I have known the bonds of brotherhood well. I’ve been lucky to be introduced to men of great morality and strength. These brothers have listened as I’ve poured my soul to them and have helped me to correct but never judge my behavior.

It would seem that my experiences contradict my previous summation. Unfortunately, the men who have shown me brotherly love have been few and far between. It also has taken time and life changing events to free ourselves of the solitude that many men imprison themselves in. It isn’t that a caring relationship between men isn’t impossible, however, it is incredibly difficult. Even the feminine overtones of this essay suggest that men shouldn’t be engaged in engaging one another on a more intimate level. I believe that a host of catastrophic events in the lives of men can be attributed to this lack of male intimacy.

In my own life I’ve dealt with an inability to cope and have turned to negative outlets in an attempt to work through my frustrations. I found myself confined within a revolving door searching for a way out. Though I had women in my life it was hard to explain the pressure of manhood that I felt stifling me. It took the encouraging words of a close male friend to bring perspective to my situation. He was able to explain to me that manhood was a journey filled with expectations. He taught me that the strength of a true man was not in his brawn or brains, but in understanding his limitations. Could a woman have given me the same advice? But in my situation the horse’s mouth served as more realistic vessel for advice.

Aristotle developed a concept known as philos a type of love that is dispassionate and virtuous. As men we must not be afraid of the word love nor should we be afraid to love one another. If it were possible to tell a brother that you love him and prevent the rampant acts of suicide, spousal abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, and depression wouldn’t it be worth it?

For the men who were man enough to love and help guide me through life I want to say I appreciate it. I also want to say that I love you brother, I love you friend.

Truth: A Consequential Casualty of Friendship

Once, I found myself in a precarious situation I prayed I would never have to face again. Till this day I can say that I've been spared the discomfort and embarrassment of that position, but honestly the decisions I made during that period haunt me to this day. I think we've all been there.

I was once asked to provide a friend with a long-standing alibi for his deceit and dishonesty. It became a bit of an impromptu lie that I was constantly prepared to tell.

Let me be clear that I have not and am not always the most honest person. I've told my share of lies and have even found myself tempted by the lure of infidelity. This made my periodic tasks even harder to do when asked. Here's the story.

My friend, I'll call him Larry (I don't know anyone named Larry and it was the first name that came to mind) was what is known as a serial monogamist. He enjoyed relationships, especially the courtship. Larry was truly gifted in the art of wooing a beautiful woman and weaving her deep into a web of his seduction. He was smooth and debonair in his approach, and women absolutely loved it. His ruse was that he and his wife were constantly going through various stages of divorce and she refused to understand his needs. I've always found it fascinating that a woman would not only believe Larry but also fall for the idea that she was the antithesis of his dutiful wife. It worked and it worked often.

Before diving to deep into truths and untruths, I'd like to spend a moment on the women he duped. Please don't allow me to paint a distorted picture of Larry. Larry was, in most accounts, a good guy. He was a loyal friend and someone that most people could trust, save his wife. He was passionate about his career and his hobbies and seemed to enjoy his life. (I speak of Larry in the past tense because I've severed ties with him.) Larry's number one character flaw was that he cheated on his wife... constantly. One particular woman knew of Larry's marital status and refused to be swayed. She believed that her presence in his life would enhance all the trials and tribulations he spilled to her during courtship. She willingly and joyfully snuck around with him enjoying the "thrill" that their clandestine encounters brought her. Too her ridiculous surprise, Larry ended their trysts deciding to "work things out" with his wife. I later learned that this was code for the fact that he lost interest and was ready to move on to the next girl. This woman's story could be photocopied and handed to every woman Larry dated. His ideal woman lacked confidence, esteem and a grip on reality.

Woman after woman, my job was to lie to Larry's wife. Every once in a while she would call me and ask if I had heard or seen Larry. Trying my best to not sound as if I were fabricating a story, I would fabricate a believable story and immediately call Larry. I've told her all sorts of ridiculous fantasies, hoping that she wouldn't believe me and demand that I put him on the phone immediately. I wanted a reprieve and an exit from the lie, but she never gave me one. Larry always had a way out and I was left to deal with a tormented conscious.

A reader could very easily cast my guilt and shame aside and profess that I deserve to feel this way. As a matter of fact, it would be easy to claim that all parties involved were equally guilty and deserved whatever punishment accompanied that guilt, including humiliation. No, I did not have to lie for my friend, nor did I have to take such an active role in his transgressions. During this time in my life my moral compass was severely off and I chose to emulate rather than chastise Larry. Birds of feather being a truism more than an idiom, I picked up some bad habits while crafting the perfect prevarication for Larry's indecorous behavior. What made matters worse is that I had absolutely nothing to gain. My friendship with Larry was a classic dependency. I needed his bad behavior to feel good about myself. He needed me to keep his wife out of his… affairs. The only thing that Larry offered me in return was a contrast that didn't require me to reach very high to attain mediocrity.

The final straw was a call late one Friday evening and a desperate request that had no positive outcome. I was asked if I would do one of two things: 1. Give an adulteress a ride to a clinic so that she could make a decision she was sure to regret or 2. Lie to Larry's wife again while he served as his girlfriend's chauffeur to an abortion clinic.

At that moment I realized that I was more than an enabler for Larry and his delusional wife. I was the cause of his problems. I was the drug dealer always willing to give a freebie. I was the money-obsessed member of an entourage, always willing to say yes. I was the parent praying that this would be the last time I would bail my child out of jail. What blew my mind was how easily Larry accepted my refusal to help out. I suspected that he had grown weary of his lifestyle and saw his omission of prophylaxis a careless cry for help. My refusal was the last words I would ever speak to Larry.

Through the grapevine I heard that he and the girl he was dating went through with the pregnancy. He divorced his wife and pursued a relationship with his mistress. All things being equal, she eventually left him for another man.

Larry taught me a lot about myself. He taught me the value of honesty and the pitfalls of wayward ambition. He taught me that a woman's heart is the most fragile collection of matter in Creation. I wish that I could say that since Larry I have not allowed a dishonest word to part my lips, but that would be a lie in itself. However, I have come to realize that lies will cause a wake of disaster that is not easily repaired. I’ve also vowed that I would never put anyone in the position that Larry placed me in. A simple lesson but one that has proven to be extremely valuable.

I still ask myself at times whose crime was greater... mine or his.

The (Justifiable) Loss of Faith

The other day my wife and I were in Ikea looking for a dresser for our bedroom. We both love Ikea for its simplicity and clean lines. Our place isn't very big so the furniture allows us to fill up our space without it appearing cluttered. After finding the perfect dresser, I wandered off alone to find an accessory at my wife's request.

While walking the massive halls of the Ikea warehouse, I was approached by a very pleasant couple from India. The man approached me holding a weird contraption and asked if I knew what it was. I picked it up and we toiled over the tiny silver bucket with wooden handle and surmised that it was some sort of a garlic press. He smiled at my theory and shook his head in agreement. Both he and his wife on cue remarked with a animated, "Oh..." They thanked me and immediately started a very nonchalant conversation with me. They asked if I shopped at Ikea often and what I thought about the furniture. I told them what any man who has bought any item from Ikea is sure to agree with, "The furniture is great but putting it together is a bear!" We all laughed and they continued to ask me questions. I cheerfully answered and was just as curious about their lives as they were mine. I found out that the man, Eric (changed to protect the innocent) was a small business owner and his wife Lisa (also changed) was an India-trained dentist. She was a few months pregnant and they were both eagerly anticipating (and a bit anxious) about their first child's arrival. I told them I had three and received the same response as the discovery of the garlic press.

The conversation was so genuine and so intriguing. I found Melissa and introduced her to my new found friends. I caught her up on what I learned and we made small talk before exchanging phone numbers and promising to meet up over coffee.

As we left Ikea, my wife and I remarked on how refreshing it was to meet new people who were so interesting and so interested in us. This has been a rare occurrence for us and we eagerly anticipated an opportunity to hang out with them. Then the ugly creature doubt crept up my spine and into the conversation. I quickly tamed the beast and even remarked to my wife how cool they seemed. She agreed and I planned on blogging about the encounter and chastising myself for instant cynicism.

Then, twenty-hours later the call from Eric, my Ikea friend came.

Eric: Hello Anthony this is Eric, we met at Ikea yesterday.
Me: Oh Eric, hello I'm so glad you called. How is your wife?
Eric: She's great, I called because we had so much fun talking to you and your wife, Melissa.
Me: So did we. We were just saying how cool it was to meet such interesting people. So what's up?
Eric: Well, I know you said you guys are already working but we have this very exciting opportunity we would like to share with you.
Me: I'm sorry?
Eric: Like I said the other day, my wife and I have our own business and we are looking for business partners who are interested in turning a small investment into a huge return. Anthony, many investors have seen as much as a 150% return on their initial investment. That could mean hundreds of dollars of residual income for you and your family. Does this sound like something you and your wife would be interested in?
Me: Um...yeah I guess?
Eric: Well Anthony, I want to get you involved as soon as possible so you and your wife don't miss this opportunity. When can we meet and talk?
Me: Um...let me talk to my wife and I'll call you back later this week.
Eric: Sounds good Anthony, how about you call me on Thursday or Friday?
Me: Yeah, sure.

So was I justified to believe that strangers don't approach other strangers for the rare possibility of making a new friend? Honestly, I was so bummed that our "chance" meeting was nothing more than a well executed sales canvass that the cynic in me returned. I allowed the beast to roam free in my mind and I instantly was turned off by the whole encounter. My wife and I don't have a lot of close friends and looked forward to the opportunity to make new neutral couple friends.

Ever the optimist I want to believe that my loss of faith in the genuine nature of people is temporary and completely unjustified. I want to believe that Eric and his wife are a fluke and the world is filled with people who want nothing more than to get to know new people. Of course, as most pots that point out the color of neighboring kettles, I have yet to approach an interesting looking person and introduce myself.

My wife mentioned the other day that we could use a new coffee table so maybe we'll try again at finding ourselves some Ikea friends.