Flowers for Leatherdude

My partner is a hopeless romantic.  He missed me as much as I missed him when I was away for a week in California.  While I called him every night, and sent him several email messages every day, it’s not the same.

I failed to mention that my partner drove me to the airport to drop me off, saving me (well, my employer, anyway) the cost of paying for long-term parking. Also, I didn’t want to leave my truck in a lot for a whole week.

When I returned to the airport, my partner picked me up. He doesn’t have or use a cell phone, so there wasn’t any waiting in a cell phone lot. Nope, he parked in the short-term nearby parking garage and came into the airport to find me.

So when he saw me at baggage claim, he called out, “hey, leatherdude” and handed me a big bouquet of flowers. He gave me a kiss, embraced me, and said, “welcome home!” I smiled, kissed him back (yeah, in front of “all those people”), took the flowers and shed several tears.

Man, it sure is good to be home with the man who makes every day worth living: my partner, my love, my hunk, my bestest friend in the whole world … my “better half.”

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

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About BHD

I am an average middle-aged biker who lives in the greater suburban sprawl of the Maryland suburbs north and west of Washington, DC, USA.