There's this boy. He's 52 today. I met him in 1976. We were both art majors in college. We shared classes together. We shared a friend. We shared an occasional nod and passing smile. Eventually we shared a meal. We shared after-meal time over cups of coffee. We shared fire and music and humor. In time we shared more time together, just the two of us and we became friends. Good friends. And lovers.

And we still are. We still share life lessons. We still share smiles and nods, meals and cups of coffee. We still share fire and music and laughter. We still discover fresh things to talk about and new things to learn about each other. We are still friends. Good friends. And lovers.


He knows more facets and crevasses of me than anyone. And he loves me anyway. He has witnessed me at my best and at my worst and he loves me anyway. He has experienced my brightest light and my deepest dark and he loves me anyway. And he loves me anyway. Because of these things and despite them he loves me.

And I love him too.


Happy Birthday Booboo.