The Many Packages of a Mate

I have never been of the opinion that a soulmate has to sport a different combination of chromosomes than me. Kindred spirits can come in all sorts of parcels. I ran away from DC this weekend to spend some quality time in the mountains with a woman who has long sported such a title in my life. She's a best friend because every fiber of her being encapsulates the same inner harmony that I was blessed to have discovered early in life and when I'm with her I mask nothing; I don't have to, she doesn't judge.



Following our lengthy hike, we sandwiched ourselves into a well hidden neighbourhood dive bar for authentic Mexican grub and some eye-poppingly strong margaritas. In a cozy booth we spent time gossiping about old times and new men. Of course, I couldn't help but gush at length about the journey I have taken with my sweetheart, from long-lost friend to distant super-crush to beau, and I droned on with tens of examples to validate why I'm so completely enamoured of him.

After a short pause to sip our margaritas and contemplate all that I'd laid out on the table she said, "You know, Cookie, you realize you're basically dating me with a penis." I coughed on a salty ice cube as soon as she said it, partly because she's hysterical and partly because she's frighteningly accurate...