My Guy

My guy is cool. As David Mamet wrote, "My guy is so cool when sheep want to sleep they count him."

(A cool story aside. My guy has a hip Fedora, very Tom Waits like and if you were to say "hey, nice Tom Waits hat" he can flip it over to show you the inscription on the inside which reads "Harley, nice hat. Good trade. Tom Waits.")

But that's not why I love him.

My guy is smart, the kind of smart that comes from a full throttle life and the hard earned lessons learned along the way.

But that's not why I love him.

My guy is the most Christian person I know, though he hasn't seen the inside of a church in years. He takes people as he finds them and his path cuts a wide swath. A priest is as likely to know his name as a bartender or a homeless man.

But that's not why I love him.

My guy is funny, I mean I've got a cramp, pass milk through your nose funny. Girls wanna do him, guys wanna be him-he's a human sparkler. Once met, he's not likely or easily forgotten.

But that's not why I love him.

No, I love him because when he crossed my radar a year ago and we got to know each other and even more so when I finally met him months later I recognized in him what the Spanish call "mi media naranja"-my half orange. Or as he once said, I realized I was missing someone I didn't think existed. (At least with my head, I don't think anyone, no matter how cynical, really gives up on finding someone in their heart.) He is the love of maturity, one that only works because we found each other now. We came to each other with our eyes wide open and surprised ourselves, finding a fresh, eager space in our tested and scarred hearts.

And that means everything.

Happy Birthday A! I love and adore you and send you festive wishes for the best birthday yet..