Why I love gay men

I’m having an issue with a man in my life. He’s pulling some serious retro high school lies on me and besides validating my decision to remove him from my life, it’s reminding me why I love gay men.

Thats right. I said it. I love gay men.

Putting aside the fact that I can’t boink my gay male friends, I love them for one major reason: They dont lie.

“Honey, what are you wearing, it looks like you blended up five donuts and smeared them on your thighs.”

A gay man won’t let you walk out of the house without looking your best. If you look good, you’ll know it. If you look like poo you’ll know that as well, but at least you’ll know it before the whole world does.

“Honey, he is a straight up hoe. Ditch him.”

A gay man won’t beat around the bush (okay sure – pun intended). If the man you’re seeing is a lying man-whore, your friend will spot that sh!t with the fine-tuned radar thats installed in his perfectly manicured head, and he’ll tell you.

I could have used my friend, James, the last year or two. With the dramatic loss of a two-year boyfriend as well as the devastating disconnection from my dysfunctional parents, I’ve stooped as low as accepting scraps of affection from a guy who’s in the throws of his own drama. It wasn’t a good thing for me to be involved in, and I could have used some serious gay-dar, even if it had nothing to do with sorting sexual preferences.

Sure, you can try to make me feel better by saying the last year was just something that God wanted me to go through. But I’m not sure that actually makes me feel better. Quite honestly I’m in shock over the latest split. Im incredibly disappointed and saddened. Had my friend, James, been around, he’d say, “It’s about time, cause Honey, – you’re worth so much more than that.”

Now THAT I believe. And quite honestly I think the man in my life knew it too.

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