I've had the same "best friend" for my entire life. She's more like family to me than some of my own family. I've known her longer than some of my own younger siblings. We've grown together, know each other, love each other and can talk about things that we cannot talk about with anyone else.

Her husband, and mine when he was still alive, didn't understand our relationship. Sucks to be them I guess. She's been married to her husband for almost 20 years, mine died after we'd been together after eight and I'm in no rush to "replace" him.

My husband was in the beginning a good friend, second only to my best friend. We loved each other, and I fell in love for all the right reasons. I gave him so much, and even right up to the end of his life when he became an abusive controlling, violent, SOB like you see on the talk shows I still love the man I fell in love with and married. We used to have fun together and I'd hoped, dreamt, right up to the end, that one day he'd wake up and remember, he'd see me again, love me again and stop abusing me.

I'm fighting to recover from PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, and so many of the scars he left me with. Ditzy broad I am, I still love him. . . Sometimes I wish I just could stop loving him and move on with my life, forget the past and find someone new. I'd love to be held, to be needed, be appreciated and maybe even wanted. But it doesn't work that way, not for me.

Friends or lovers, doesn't matter, people who touch my heart and soul, good or bad, are a part of me . . .

Sam