Wild {da beast}

Every once in a great white moon, if you’re lucky (or charming or perhaps a lucky charm), when the stars align and Virgo is flashing Aries like a trench coat wet dream, you stumble upon someone who is a little bit…

Wild.

Said mooning and flashing and stumbling and charming all collided in a most {be}wild{ering} way one lazy afternoon four years ago, when what to my wondering eyes should appear – amidst a wall of dicks, no less (yes there’s a story there; no, I won’t be telling it today) – but (no butts) a man.

A real man.

(A wild man.)

It was…

Wild.

And thus a unique and {un}wi{e}ld{y} friendship began.

I’ve been thinking for several days about how to explain our relationship.  It’s the simplest thing in the world, you see, and thus it is wild{ly} complicated.  There is this… thing… between us (no, not that thing) that is…

Hmmm.  How should I put this?

Have you ever had a friend you could talk to?  I mean, really talk to?  Someone who doesn’t judge you or hold you in lower esteem because you share something or show something or hold a different set of opinions?  Somebody with whom you can speak freely, about sex and love in all their forms?  About fetishes and kinks and “I’d never”s and “Oh My GOD, I want to try”s?  Somebody who will talk about a topic with you, without making the conversation a war?  Someone who doesn’t care to convert you to their way of thinking?  Somebody who is interested in issues and intellect and equally fascinated with the seamiest dreams and basest desires?  Somebody who gives a damn?  Someone who actually knows what it means to live and love (and fuck) unconventionally?  Somebody who can be safely invited into your innermost private thoughts and, regardless of whether participant or voyeur therein, provide comfort by just being?

Someone with whom you can just.be.yourself?

I have exactly such a person in my life.  Which is…

Wild.

He is brilliant and insouciant and tempered and irreverent and eloquent and raunchy and everything inappropriate and wonderful.

And today is his birthday.

So without further ado…

To my dear friend (who will probably not even see this for another week – because, life), my trusted ally, my sweet (and sour) confidante:

I will always be grateful to That Other Place, no matter what my variant experiences there, because it brought me you.

Happy Birthday, Wild.

I love you dearly.

Raisin’ a glass to you:

{1:14 ~ You’ll get it in a way nobody else ever will.}

Thank you for being wrong, in all the right ways.