What Brothership Means to Me
For those of you who have read my blog, you know that I recently went through a rough friend breakup. Someone who had been a friend for fifteen years and I parted ways, and it was rough.
I talked about it several times here, because it was particularly devastating, given my health issues.
Well, he offered and olive branch, and, after some thought, I accepted it without condition or argument. Why? Because friendship, especially one as old as ours, is much more important than being right. It doesn’t matter to me if he was right, or if I was right. What happened is in the past, and buried with the hatchet.
I have several men whom I consider to be my brothers in this life (thus far). As some of you know, I do not have any biological brothers. But, blood is not the only thing that makes brothers, it is intent, action, being there for one another. Each of my brothers has been there for me, and I for them. And I will be in the future. I suppose that is why it did not take me long to look past what happened, even though it hurt as much as it did.
It is said by common media that it is hard to find good friends, the older one gets, but I am finding that my friendships are more meaningful, as I have less tolerance for bullshit. I am lucky that I am finding more good friends, even now.