He is a lot more than just my best friend, though. He is my love, my confidant and my cuddler.

He is scarily intelligent, and he makes me think (sometimes more than I want to). He has an intensity, a fire, which draws people to him. He's a very young boy and a very old soul at the same time. He has a beautiful, deep voice, and the most amazing green eyes. He is kind, sweet and caring, full of honour and integrity. He is beyond handsome, so much so that sometimes I think he is a part of some physically perfect alien race. I love it when he smiles. He calls me silly names that I pretend not to like, but I'd die if he ever stopped. Nothing makes me happier than being in his arms. He's a psychologist and a teacher, but his true calling is to spirituality. He is everything I've ever wanted, and I wouldn't give him up if you offered me all the money, fame and power in the world, 'cause I love him. And in the slightly twisted words of a famous quartet of brats from Liverpool: "Money can't buy my love."
I ain't no Woody Harrelson.

Page © J.H.W. October, 2000.