To Keanu on the 47th Year

Of course, you know I'll post an update today. Today of all days. It's the 47th year. The 47th birthday of my one true obsession, the one man that makes my heart melt, the one man I think (and I may be delusional) is my one true love. I always have this idea that on on his birthday he's probably under some chick getting mighty laid, but nobody's me or the men I've... ahem... slept with. But even with that I hope he's happy. I am not mighty happy myself but I'm good. I am...good. I fear I may never achieve my life's desires and I am in deep financial do dah but I am good. It's the 47th year, we need to be good. 

Every year on Keanu's birthday I always do a little poem that expresses how I feel about him, about me, about us. With all that's happened this year, I just don't feel like it's a good place. Not that I don't feel the same, trust me after venturing with Trouble I realized that I should stick with a certain look, I guess the honest look. But this year I thought maybe I should say why he's ever present on my mind moreso on his birthday than before. I suppose this is a list of the reasons why I like Keanu, on his 47th year.

1.  The honest eyes. Every time I look into those eyes I want to tell the truth, I feel the need to tell the truth, I feel the world, everyone should feel the need to tell the truth. Why lie? It's like he retained that childhood innocence in his eyes and he never lost it, and every time I see those eyes I just want to say the truth. That's probably just me. Telling the truth means a lot to me, personally and professionally, I try not to lie to the people I care about and it just hurts like utmost betrayal hurt when I find that someone willingly lied to me. So the eyes, the honesty in those eyes gets me.

2. That voice. The voice coupled with those eyes, how dare you tell lies, seriously. It's just me, I suppose. There's something about it I find so innocent, like he can't hurt a fly, an odd combination that just gets you to pull down your pants. I assume it's very hard for the women in his social circle to keep their pants on.

3. Finally, and most importantly, it's just the him that makes him who he is that makes me who I am someone who longs to see that thing always. He just makes me feel like me. I measure most men against him. Are they that honest or polite or soft-spoken or respecting of women? Do I feel like, hey, there's a "him" in him that makes me feel like, this is him...sometimes, yes, and sometimes that thing is faked or masked by all the sex. But I keep waiting for that thing that stays, that is not brought upon by an infatuation or obsession but a real thing, a "connection." 

That's what keeps me coming back to Keanu....year after year, until he turns 47 and I turn 37 and he turns 50 and I turn gulp...40. That's what keeps me coming back. The kindness and softness in those eyes like this is me, and I am kind and sweet and don't hurt a fly, don't get in the tabloids, don't womanize, this is me, I am rich but don't care and just me...so please love me. And I do. Hopelessly. It's the thing, that's so endearing, I suppose. It's Keanu. 

So Keanu, on the 47th year...Happy Birthday... my true love!