Staying the Night With Your Guy Friends

When I was in my early 20's, a few years after becoming a devote follower of Christ, I was living on my own with Ammye as my roommate. Her and I would go stay the weekend with our friends Jimmy & Kevin. They had a town house by LSU. They were students, we were not.

Ammye and I had both been on our own at an early age, she was 15 when she moved away from home, I was 17, so we didn't have parents around to tell us "don't go stay the night with those guys, it will look bad to the neighbors." So if we wanted to stay the night at our guy friends house, that's what we did.  Nothing ever happened between any of us. No, we didn't like them like that, they were our friends. We would stay up playing games or riding around the levee in Kevin's truck, Kevin dipping skoal (I did once) with two of us in the back, having to sit in the bed of the truck with our heads sticking through the little window into the cab, while we road slowly, listening to music, singing, talking.

A few nights at Kevin and Jimmy's, I spent crying over my ex, who was also one of their good friends and mine. I had made the mistake of dating one of us, Wade. He was like my brother for many years, I even lived with his parents for a few months, but that's another story, anyway, we dated briefly, he broke my heart and now Jimmy, Kevin and their other room mate, Steve, had to endure my agony.

I remember one time,  Jimmy Clyde got stuck with me crying. He had a real issue with trying to be kind and comforting me while I wailed on the couch and he just kept handing me tissues and looking at me with that "I have no idea what to say to her" face, and also the "Please stop crying, you're annoying me." pursed lip face.

They were good friends.

Ammye nor I ever dated Kevin, Jimmy or Steve, they didn't want to date us, we didn't want to date them, they were our friends and that's it.

But sure, now that I am a mother of an almost grown girl, I realize that it looked bad. Well, actually, it didn't look bad for the guys, heck it looked like they had weekly booty calls coming to the house, but yea, it probably didn't look to good for us.

We didn't care. We knew what was up. We knew who and what we were.

It's weird how things "look" you know? Who people think we are, based on our actions. Which is how it goes right? Our actions show people who we really are, but do they really? How many people really see the complete picture of our actions?

I believe my motivation for my actions then were because I didn't have a dad in the home and I craved male attention. But I didn't crave sexual attention necessarily. I liked having guy friends. I was like Elaine on Seinfeld, to a lot of guys, I was "the friend" and I didn't have a problem with that. I loved it actually. I have maintained these friendships.


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