The attractive lesbian couple that live in my apartment complex had an argument a few weeks ago, and because there were a lot of people there, it turned into a parking lot brawl at 3am. I slept through the night, but the other residents were mad because they were fighting and mad because they were making so much noise - apparently I was the only person who slept through the ruccus. Cops were called, people were arrested, noses were broken.

What disturbs me is that these two young and very attractive women (one is 20, 5' tall, petite, from Venezuala, the other is taller, 5' 7" tall, petite frame but shapely breasts, with short black hair) would actually fist fight.

I hate drama and I love passion. I will spank a bare naked ass for hours if the Hottie is turned on by it. In fact, I can get very passionate when there are naked bodies that need punishment. But I will always consider a person who is violent while angry an abuser, and I see now that spouse abusers come in all shapes and sizes.

I don't know what to say to either of these people any more. Neither of them have ever been rude, in fact they have both been very friendly to me, which is nice; lesbians usually avoid white middle-aged men like cats avoid water.

The reason for the fight? The taller woman had been hanging out with another woman lately, and this new person had been hanging out at the apartment that the couple shares - it was all about jealousy. There is no space in my life for jealousy, nor is there any space in my life for drama.

I feel very disappointed; maybe I held them in higher esteem because they were nice to me, I am not sure. It truly is none of my business.

Jealousy is a very dangerous emotion; I am glad that I do not have jealousy issues. Certainly jealousy is a no-no regarding bisexual, polyamorous relationships, and I have witnessed the struggle some couples who identify as poly face. On the other hand, I have known several couples who have overcome the jealous emotion, and the rewards are huge for them, and their friends.

Wow, I think it is rare that a therapist actually admits to the patient that a referral to a psychiatrist is in order. That's tough love, and a friend of mine faced that today. She said she got "disturbing news" from her therapist. Definitely, I agree that getting a referral to a psychiatrist would be quite disturbing to me. Similar to a general physician referring me to a cancer specialist or a heart specialist, only perhaps a little bit worse, since either would be in the physiological realm. Suddenly, one begins to question one's perspective on life - as in: "am I genuinely touched in the head?" "How bad is it, really?" "Why is a therapist giving up on me?" "What do I do now?"

I tried my best to convince my friend that what the therapist was admitting was that her illness required a higher level of training than was available. I don't know how convincing I was, but I know that she probably will not sleep well tonight. Certainly for me, this whole experience is taking me to a higher level of awareness - of my frailties, my gifts, my own fears. And the fears of others.

Life truly is precious, and oh so fragile.

Thus, I set boundaries for my involvement, and I am glad I did, for if my involvement went any deeper, I would be unable to help my friends. Is my compassion my weakness? No, it is my strength; a strength I call upon when friends need someone to be strong for them, to carry them when they feel weak and fragile - to fight for them, even when the enemy is within.

Truly, I feel grateful right now that I am stronger and wiser than I was. I too faced the darkness of despair and depression. It almost took my life.