There are many men in my life that I can say that I truly love. The top two are the usual suspects: my dad and my son. I have three male friends who are really close to me, and their names start with A, B and C. They are the guys who let me dirty up the couch in their lounge room and watch all their DVDs when I’m away from the family and studying in Melbourne. I’ve never been ashamed to say that I love these men, even when my partner would call out, “It’s one of your boyfriends on the phone!” If it weren’t for these guys I wouldn’t be in a such a happy place now, and I always need to let them know that.

Among them is one guy, B, who I can truly call a soul mate. For some reason he seems to know how I’m feeling before I do. He’s carried me through some pretty awful periods in my life, even when my depression and anger made it hard for people to be friendly to me. One day he proposed that when we die we get buried in different corners of a graveyard and have battleship game consoles instead of tombstones. It’s that kind of nerdy humour that can only be appreciated in a true friendship, and carries an intent that can only be described as true, flawless, friends-forever love.

Today B called me today to say he had a date last night, the third date with this girl, and he didn’t get home until very early this morning. I asked him, “Does this mean you have a girlfriend?”

B is one of those tragic-romantic types. I met him in 1996 and have never known him to have a girlfriend, while in those ten years I had been married twice and almost married another one (God-awful mistake that he had to carry me through). He’s never been a celibate, but somehow manages to find women with “complications”, or invent complications for himself that make seeing his way to second date really difficult.

Every once in a while it seemed to trouble him, but mostly he found himself quite comfortable in knowing that he preferred women with standards, rather than going out with someone who would consider going out with him. One part of his comic, macabre character that endeared him to me all the more.

But when I heard his reply, “You know, I reckon I do,” I was overcome with emotion. This girl seems really good value – educated, politicised, feminist, with a slight sarcasm in her humour – all the qualities I would recommend in a girlfriend for B, and he is very, very smitten. He told me he was happy, really happy.

I found myself jumping up and down and giggling like a school-girl. It was the freakiest, funniest and most excellent news I had heard from him in ten years. B was happy and on his way to being in love, no sign of looming “complications” in sight. I imagined meeting this girl, giving her a bear hug and congratulating her on making such a brilliant choice, and welcoming her to the family (Look, I know it’s only been the third date but I’m excited, okay?)

I realised that was acting like a giggly school-girl because, in cases like this, it is exactly what I am. I love love. And when love happens, or even the notion that love might be on the way, I want to run to watch it unfold.

Congratulations, B. You are the greatest and you deserve this. God knows we’ve waited long enough.

P.S. I’ve already called A and C about it.