* Yes, damn it. I’m breaking down and using a pseudonym for one of my friends. It’s out of respect for her privacy, which I refuse to show for the other people in my life. That should tell you something right there.

I can’t remember the context, but I’m sitting at the bar and hear Bree call me a motormouth — tells one of the regulars that I haven’t shut up all day. I laugh, of course. For some reason, everything she says makes me smile. I think that it’s her voice, that slightly accented cashmere softness that is so often followed by the most perfect laugh anyone ever imagined. How can I not smile?

That laugh is one of my favorite things in life. You ever had a friend or maybe been really attracted to someone, but then the laugh that comes out of their throat is like an after-school special without the benefit of bourbon, that thing that you sit through wondering when the torture will end? Och, I have. But Bree — god, her laughter makes up for every nails-on-chalkboard giggle I’ve ever put up with in my life.

It puts me at ease, her laugh, her smile. Everything about her, really. And as funny as the motormouth comment is — most people that know me will say I’m withdrawn, reasonably quiet outside of controlled bursts of extroversion — it hits me that yeah, it’s true. I probably have talked her ear off this day. It certainly fits with the three hour phone call records that I’ve set with her.

There’s a lot about Bree that makes it feel okay to just relax, not think, and just be me.

Right now, she’s laughing, by the way. It was the “not thinking” comment that made her laugh. But as much as it seems against my nature to not think and just be, somehow it works out that way.

Bree is captivating. She’s physically stunning. I don’t want to mislead anyone here; she’s not a supermodel. But she’s got a look that you could never accurately capture without an artist’s touch and paints on canvas. That’s a lot of what made my jaw drop the first time I saw her: she’s very real, and very unique. She’s got curves, and imperfections and flaws, just like the rest of us. But she doesn’t hide those things, at least not with an obsessive vengeance like so many other women I’ve known; it’s as though she draws attention to all the sexy things about her by not hiding anything at all. She’s beautiful, I think, because of her flaws, not in spite of them. Her eyes are at times penetrating and intense, at others distant and dreaming, but always the color of dusk. She’s soft without being lazy or weak. She moves with purpose but always with grace and ease. And I can always come full circle to her smile…

She’s a good person, there for both friends and family with an ear or even much needed words. She has, in many, many ways, got her life together, but she’s not predictable or dull, and that’s inspiring to someone who has spent too much time wandering off course. She’s moving forward, and seems to know where she’s headed (and if not, she hides it well). And she seems totally okay with getting there whenever, no real rush.

It strikes me here and now that as much as I might know about Bree, I know very little. I look forward to learning more about her, to learning from her, and to laughing with her. In a perfect world, things would blossom and develop into a life-long love affair, one that I think would be meant for storybooks and moviescreens. But even if that perfect world never comes around, I’m an incredibly lucky person, to have her as a friend, and even luckier to have connected with her across the miles.

This is the closest I could come to a Valentine’s Day wish for someone, and I think I remember someone saying that they’ve never really had a good Valentine’s romance… I hope yours is wonderful and filled with laughs, Bree.