My Best Friend

My best friend, you had someone who will help you find who you are. Someone told you the right way. Even if you do not pass that way, you will be next to someone next to you. People are always right, but he never objected to you, even if you were gone. People without your life may be completely different. I have it. Her name is Jessica. Jessica is more than my neighbor. She is not just my mentor. She is my best friend. When I moved to a new community, Jessica lived in three houses.

In my life, I was always fortunate to be surrounded by my best friends from my parents and brothers, her family on the street, and my best high school, supporting and loving people. My friend in college, all the fighting partners in the military, Korean soldiers I am working in - I can not help but I have the privilege of having such a wonderful human weapon I am surprised that they have unconditional love and infinite care for me. And life is a constantly expanding path of change, and to this approach, and sometimes in an unexpected way, I have to say a lot of good parting to many good people. Sometimes these farewells are better than others, but I often understand fully in the next thing - the next chapter - I fully understand what I have in front of me Forgot.

My best friend was gay when I was a high school student. To this day, one of them is still one of my best friends. He is one of the wonderful people I have ever met in my life. Of those two, he was a man who did not "go out" when we went to school. One of our best friends knows that his mother knows what he knows (luckily it supports), but nobody does that. It is not well understood. Another friend, Andy came out and was proud. I did not know he was absolutely fucking up. This is the early 1990s. We live in a very small southern town in North Carolina. What I feel proud of going out is about the worst thing you can do, except that it is in a race relationship. I do not hate fucking it. The third bad thing you can do is me. I call it "fag hag". I dislike words I dislike as much as I do not like fucking.

There is no limit between love and hatred. This is the same thing. Now I decided to call it hatred. I hate her. She is my best friend, but I dislike her courage. That just means I love her courage, she is my best friend. There is no row. Finally, I will come back inside. I will stay outside and never doubt about our quarrel among our friends but that is enough to make my wife uncomfortable. Our friends are not aware that I know that they have sucked weeds, and most of them want to smoke or smoke. I returned to the party. My wife saw me, but she smiled really, and even lifted a little temptation to her right eyebrow. Maybe I love her. She is very beautiful. She came toward me, and I was half done. She leaned against my body, I kissed her forehead, her lips lifted my cheek ... Kiss?