Who do you Love?
We were in some hotel in some city (they all blend together after a while) at the tail end of a long off-site company meeting. Everyone was saying their goodbyes, hugging and well-wishing each other, already talking about the next time we would all see each other again, some time next season. It was there in some hallway, passing quickly from “all together” to “back to our respective” homes that it just slipped out.
“I love you, man,” I said to Dan, and waved goodbye. And it wasn’t one of those movie-style, “I love you, man’s.”
Dan and I have worked together for years. Sometimes for the same company, other times for competitors. We’ve kept in good contact throughout the years, watching each other’s careers develop and families grow. We’ve developed an unspoken brotherhood.
“You, too,” he said.
Besides my two sons, I’ve only told two other men I love them. My best friend, Alex (not something we say every time we talk, but enough to know our friendship is genuine), and my other best friend, James. James and I say it all the time. Like we’re never going to see each other again or something.
I don’t recall telling my father I loved him. Maybe once or twice. And he wasn’t generous with his I love you’s either. He might have told me he loved me once? Not sure.
So why are some dudes versus others worthy of our profession of love?
Simple answer: we trust them. We share something more than just friendship. The walls are gone. We’re comfortable enough to be who we are with them. We share love.
Is it weird to say it? Well, maybe that first time. Like in the hallway, when you realize, “I love that guy.”
Should we as men say this more often to each other? Absolutely. A little love goes a long way. It crosses state lines, time zones, and hey, did you know it doesn’t know gender?
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Photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash