By Andrea
I am no woman’s friend.
I count none as confidante.
They are baseless, petty, gossipy things
Nary an exception.
They don’t appeal to me
There is no spirit of affiliation,
No desire to share and pretend that hushed discourse is relevant.
I much prefer the male of the species.
They can be understood.
Surprises are rare and relationships effortless.
Dime-a-dozen flings
Or million-dollar heartbreaks
We have created them
We have molded them
So we must, of necessity,
Live with our mistakes.
“I’ve spent most of my life as either someone’s daughter, wife or mother. Writing allows me the freedom to be accountable to no one.” – the writer
thedrabble.wordpress.com 
A man can be understood, if a man is listened to. If a woman is curious to know what goes on in his mind, then she shouldn’t assume to know what he thinks.
And, if she loves him, then she will care for his words, take value in them, and never ignore them in believing she always knows best.
Yes. A woman has created a man. Though, I believe it to also true that a man creates a woman. She expects her trust in him to never be mishandled, to be held with care and gentleness. A man becomes a sculptor, forming the woman into his perpetual vision of beauty. What woman, unless she yearns for abuse, doesn’t want a man to be gentle around the pressures of her? The kindness and affection are of him to her, when he can not be a monster, and relate so much to herself.
I believe the differences are this. A woman will look to a man, in the attempt to find something she knows of herself. Whereas, a man will blindly look to a woman, never in the attempt, though in the surprise to see something he has never seen.
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