Last night I went over to my friend’s house for dinner. She’s divorcing her husband and dealing with a bipolar 10 year-old and a new baby. It is all very sad and overwhelming but she’s getting through it. She was sitting on the floor talking about how she would look at the girls and think about how she had to keep going and I definitely related to that. There is just no other choice sometimes. As much as you may want to lay in bed for a week and cry, you don’t have that luxury.
I left her house and drove almost an hour to see my friend, Lance, on the other side of town. After an hour or so, we were laying in bed cuddling and chatting about the sorry state of our romantic lives (he, too, is divorced – well, in the process – should be final on Monday) and how we need to get back out there. He promised to take me to a country bar if I go with him to a heavy metal bar. I promised him no line dancing if he promised me no death metal. LOL. He smacked my ass, pulled me up off the bed and gave me a warm hug to seal the deal. Now that is the right kind of friend with benefits!!
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