Thursday, May 3, 2012

Just the Way You Are

Dear Ella,

You are, my dear, everything that is woman. I will never see what you see in the mirror, I cannot. From the way you talk, I do not want to. The woman I see is beautiful, she is real. You can deny me, over and over again when I compliment you, but you can’t deny this one simple fact: I love looking at you.

I promise you this, Ella: I will never, ever, desire any part of you be made of silicon or botox. I realize that I am one of those strange creatures known as men, but know that we as different and peculiar from one to another as you are in all your many forms. This man will proudly stand and declare that he will love you, not in spite of the lines by your eyes, but because he hopes they’re there because of how often you have laughed together. If your breasts are small, I will rejoice and enjoy them as much as I would were they not. I actually like them that way. I will never push you to get plastic surgery and instead will grow irritated if you take the idea seriously. When I touch you, embrace you, I want it to be all you, not your inappropriately titled “enhancements”. I don’t care what size your boobs are; they suit you.

I must let you in on a secret. Sometimes your sexiest moments have absolutely nothing to do with how your hair or make-up look. Whether or not you are “porcelained to perfection,” as I once described it. You look like an angel asleep with your hair spread across the pillow. I am equally excited by how you look in your pyjama pants, in spite of the fact that you might never dream of going out in public in them. I hope you are brave enough to do so, however. I certainly am.

I think it is only fair to warn you. I will want to take you dancing and after one of those incomprehensibly sexy slow cha-chas, I will just want you. Depending on the situation, I may very well not wait to get you into the bedroom, nor remove any of your clothing. Where there is a will, there is a way. I will be ridiculously, childishly disappointed if your undergarments aren’t sexy and will be equally ridiculously pleased if you aren’t wearing any at all. I will do my best not to express my disappointment in the former situation and do my best to express my pleasure thoroughly in the latter.

If you’re a little vain, don’t worry, I won’t be able to hide the fact that I love it. I may tease you a bit, but it will always make me smile. I may never understand your need to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to get ready for work at 8:00, but it is only fair; you are never going to understand how I manage to get up at 7:25 to do the same.

I swear that I will treasure your mind as much as I do your body and your ability to laugh at me for laughing at my own jokes. This is a necessity. I am obsessed with my own cleverness and I will love you as much for loving that particular eccentricity as I will if you cook for me. I will happily cook with or for you in return. I will want to play with you, whether we play tag, hide in seek, ping pong, Frisbee golf, or other, more adult games. I hope to lose hours admiring how much that little black dress flatters all those real parts of you I admire so much while equally entranced by the conversation we’re having over wine. There is no one aspect of you I admire more than other. I want it all.

Ella, if you are one of those many Ella’s I will never meet or come to know better than a hello in passing, know that in essence everything I have said will remain true. I boldly declare myself a man worth having and as representative of such, take what is important from this: there are men out there who are happy to love everything that is real about you. We don’t want a woman with the breasts of a porn star nor the stretched face Dr. Seuss look of botox. We just want you, au naturale. Just you, the way you look tonight.

Sincerely Yours,
m0rg4n

P.S. I have included the lyrics I wrote this morning. Of a similar vein.

Romantic

I’m not someone
with his head in the clouds
just a man determined
to tether romance to gravity

You may think that I’m unreal
but pinch yourself and see
I’m the real thing and you’re not dreaming
Better yet, just kiss me

I won’t come riding in on a white horse
I won’t come riding in, in shining armor
I’m just a man with his hands in his pockets
leaning against a door somewhere
waiting for you to stroll on through

I know sometimes it seems
like you must be Alice and this is Wonderland
like you are dining upside down
in a world that’s topsy-turvy

You may think that I’m unreal
but pinch yourself and see
I’m the real thing and you’re not dreaming
Better yet, just kiss me

You may think that I’m unreal
just kiss me and see
I’m the real thing and you’re not dreaming

You may think that I’m unreal
but kiss me so I can see
you’re the real thing and I’m not dreaming



And a thousand words, goodnight.

Copyright all creative content, 2012, dba m0rg4n blah, blah, blah

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