My self-proclaimed best guy friend is one of the most attractive men on the planet. Beauty, of course, is subjective, but in the eye of this beholder, mmmm…. He is tall and muscular with dark hair that starts to curl when he lets it grow. During this inspired month of November, he is especially yummy with that dark bit of awesome scattered with just enough white. And although I’ve never seen him with his shirt off (curse the gods!), I have seen enough of his chest to know that I would enjoy running my fingers through that perfect blend of salt and pepper.
Yes. I like chest hair (in moderation) and facial hair (in less moderation).
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is a man who shaves or waxes his body. I am not a girly girl, but I do try to at least look appealing; I shave my legs daily, paint my nails, wear skirts and eye shadow, and at least comb my uber-long hair most of the time. However, when a man has less body hair than me, or buffs his nails to where I feel the need to hide mine for shame, I just cannot deal. Yes, Mr. Metro, you are very attractive, but I have an insatiable fetish for body hair so you just can’t compete with men like my Astronaut.
My best guy friend is not actually a spaceman (insert lame “out of this world” line here). I haven’t even caught a whiff of Axe Apollo, although he does smell very good. This blog will not have any real names, so I’ve decided to have some fun. In all seriousness though, if you saw this guy you would think he did just stepped out of a magazine – not the creepy perfume ads where you’re not sure which one is the woman, but the sporty ones for deodorant or snowboarding. (Did I mention he’s athletic?)
I met my Astronaut last summer. We just randomly started talking during lunch one day. The next time we ran into each other, we continued the conversation as if five minutes had passed instead of five weeks. I believe he began by saying something like, “hey! Do you still live in a van down by the river?” Now, we can rarely go two weeks without seeing each other. If too much time passes, he’ll email me asking what’s up because something must be wrong if I haven’t stopped by with a smile after X number of days. I’m fairly certain he has an app that shows when he sees everyone he knows…at least I hope so because if it’s just for me, then it’s creepy, even for him.
Whenever I’m depressed or stressed out, I try to avoid him; I don’t like to mess his day up with my continuous problems. It’s stupid for me to do that though: I cannot have a conversation with that man and not laugh. It’s just impossible! The funniest thing he ever said to me was, “if I put a big ol’ steak in front of you, what would you do with it?” It was an incredibly innocent comment about my eating habits that turned into a long-standing, not-at-all-innocent inside joke.
Anytime I need a boost in my severely depleted self-esteem, I go to outer space. He’s always there with a compliment about my dress or my shoes. He’s always there with a gorgeous smile (and all his teeth) to brighten my day. He’s always there with witty comebacks to rival my own. The man is a god, and I love almost everything about him.
The best part: there is no pressure to fall in love with him and no fear that he will fall for me. As far as I know, we’ve never been interested in each other past friendship.
A couple of years ago, I made a wish: I wanted a true friend: someone I could have fun with but never have “fun” with. A number of men have failed me on this; they say they value me as a friend and then start groping. It’s very annoying, especially when they try to kiss me and then suck at it, sometimes literally. I don’t fully trust the Astronaut – my trust belongs to a man from earth – but I do know that he would never betray mine in this way. And not just because he isn’t attracted to me.