Yeah, man! One who looked like this, but not anyone in this particular photo, “dropped by” to deliver a lemon-meringue pie for our anniversary and sing us a little song.

The context: yesterday was the 16th anniversary of the day we met. But that didn’t preclude tackling the long-list of “Spring gotta-do’s” on my partner’s list. We began by doing our weekly grocery shopping very early in the morning. After we got back home and put things away, it was time to mow the lawn, trim it, and edge the sidewalks. Take down the old planters, dump the dirt, and refill them from the compost. Clean 900 square feet of our decks. That, plus the usual visit with my aunt to see how she’s doing, get her groceries, pay her bills, etc.

My partner and I are out back on a hot, sunny afternoon doing all this work when we hear a “hello?” from a husky male voice. I said, “back here!” while my partner gave me one of those looks like, “who’s that? Tell ’em we don’t want any.” (He doesn’t like visitors and in particular, he can’t stand door-to-door solicitors. We have friends over only once each year, so the voice wasn’t likely from someone we know.)

Around the side of the house walks this gorgeous, tall studly hunk with no shirt, tight leather pants, boots, formal cuffs, bow tie, and carrying a pie. He was incredibly handsome. He walked up to us and said that he was sent “by a friend” to wish us a happy anniversary. He sang a song (with a lot of sexual innuendo), smiled a big pearly-white smile, handed us the pie, and wished us a very happy day.

My partner and I just stared, dumb-founded. Honestly, neither of us knew what to say. When I realized he was through and was about to leave, I thanked him for coming, and tried to find out who sent him. But he wouldn’t say. I know it’s somebody who knows us well, because that person knows what type of sweet is my partner’s favorite in the whole world. And damn! He was gone before I could remember to go find my camera!

If you were the one who sent this gorgeous pie-bearing guy, fess up!

Wow… thanks! Woofity-woof-woof and whew! And I thought the outdoor air temperature was HOT!

Sixteen years: it seems like yesterday and it seems like forever, both. On April 25, 1993, at precisely 8:10am, in the basement of a house on T Street, NW, Washington, DC, I met the man who has fundamentally changed my life so much for the better: my partner, my man.

I explained in last year’s anniversary blog post how we came to meet, so I won’t repeat myself.

I have learned many important life lessons over these years:

• Love is indeed something you get back more of the more you give it away.
• That by being faithful, honest, and true that the same qualities are returned equally.

• It IS okay to be completely “me” with someone who composes the richest part of my life. He has definitely seen me at my worst, at my best, and in all phases in between. He truly loves all of me: physically, emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually. My love is returned to him exactly the same way.
• To have faith that no matter how you blunder, no matter what you’ve goofed up, if he loves you, he will forgive, move on, and continue to love.
• That being goofy and silly and giving voices to our little farm of stuffed animals is not only endearing to him, it is appreciated for the fun it brings to our lives.
• What “dependable” really means: What it means to depend on someone and for others to depend on you — and how reliability and dependability are synonymous.
• What a conversation is, rather than babble; what listening really means, rather than cursory “uh-huhs”; and how words convey thought. But I have also learned that action following those words proves more than just talking about it.
• That civic responsibility is valued.
• The reason why we never fight about money is that we have no reason to do that — we think exactly the same way when it comes to handling individual and shared finances. We don’t spend what we don’t have.
• That trust is built through ongoing demonstration of the reasons for that basis of trust, and that it isn’t a one-time thing. Trust is tested in a variety of ways, and the response to those tests proves what integrity means.

Do we have a perfect relationship? No, but we’re working on it. We’re very different men, with different backgrounds, experiences, and interests. But what has formed the foundation of our solid relationship is that we respect that we have these differences. We don’t criticize or put the other down because he doesn’t understand. We help each other learn and as a result, we continue to grow as individuals and as a couple.

16 years… who woulda thunk? Today, I really can’t imagine what my life would be like without my man. He isn’t my “other half.” He IS me and I am him and we truly are bound at the soul. (Te he, now I have found a form of bondage that I can say I enjoy!)

I looked on the Internet to try to find what the appropriate gift would be for a 16 year anniversary. It says, “silver holloware.” What’s that? A sugar bowl. Heck, I can do better than that. And my partner doesn’t use sugar anyway.

The gift I give my man today (and always) is the same gift he gives me all days: unconditional love, support, gratitude, joy, happiness, and smiles, with a mix of faithfulness, honestly, devotion, sexual energy, attention, and integrity thrown in.

I blog often about the importance of smiling, and I can honestly say that I DO have a silly grin on my face most of the time because my life with my man is so strong and solid that I have a real reason to smile often. It’s easier to take the lumps of coal that life deals out on occasion when I have that sugar bowl at home. (Metaphorically speaking only.)

Today is the anniversary of the day we met. I am so richly blessed, and I remain head over bootheels in love with the man of my life. He is my very essence of being. Happy Anniversary, my love! Always: ILYAWM BB!

It happened to us 16 years ago on April 25. I shall begin with a bit of history.

Back in high school, I went on dates with the same girl from homeroom from my sophomore through senior year. She was easy to talk to, fun to be with, and enjoyed many of the same activities and groups that I did. She didn’t demand sex, and I wasn’t interested.

I didn’t know then that I was gay. I thought I was supposed to date girls, so I tried. But because I was born gay but didn’t know it yet (or accept it on a conscious level), I went through the common rituals of high school (or tried to, anyway).

This female friend and I went out on lots of dates. But at the end of the evening, it was always a quick peck on the cheek, and I’d be off. Later in life, we remained friends and it was only through a conversation we had a few years ago that I realized that she was hoping for more… (sexual stuff) … with me, but I never even thought about it, much less try anything.

At University, I poured myself into academics and into campus activities. I became a BMOC while maintaining a stellar academic standing. I was active with various student groups and a college fraternity, even becoming President of several of these groups during my tenure as a student. I walked out of there 5.5 years later with a BS, BA, and BSE awarded Magna Cum Laude.

With all that going on, I had little time to date. Again, I went through some rituals of taking women out to fulfill certain expectations, but nothing ever happened. Because I was so busy, I barely had time to breathe. Did I keep so busy because I didn’t want to acknowledge my sexuality? Only my subconscious knows the answer to that question.

After undergraduate school, I began to teach in public school. As a teacher, one had to keep one’s personal life very private. That I did. No dating, either. (Though I did have my first experience with another guy one exceptional weekend, so I finally figured it out.)

While attending graduate school, I left teaching and got a full-time job in a non-teaching profession. I bought and renovated four single family homes in five years. Again, no time to breathe, much less go out and meet anyone.

Once that all calmed down, more degrees awarded, etc., I settled down. I decided that I wanted to ride my motorcycle with a club whose members liked to wear leather, like me, and who were gay (like me.)

I joined a club that was just forming. That was great since I wouldn’t have to endure hazing which was the reason why I joined a newly-forming college fraternity back “when.” The first club meeting that the man I lovingly refer to as my partner and I attended together is when we met, and frankly, never parted. I honestly have to say that he was the only guy I ever went out with on dates. I never dated anyone else. We both just “knew” that “he is my man.”

We have been though a lot together. Good times, extensive interesting international travel, building our own home together, and bad times, too. But through thick and thin, he’s my man, my love, my hunk, my one-and-only to whom I am committed for the rest of my life. And I know he believes the same in me.

I am a very fortunate and blessed man. I didn’t have to go through the heartbreak of meeting someone and being let down. Of getting into a relationship and perhaps living together only to find out later that it’s not a good fit, or to have him steal from me, lie to me, or play behind my back. I know these things have happened to other guys. It hasn’t (and won’t) happen to me. I love my man, and he loves me. THAT, my friends, is what it’s all about. Come back tomorrow to read my anniversary tribute to the man of my life.