Would you still love me if I weren't pretty anymore?

Would your eyes still roam over my body with longing if it were scared with cuts or burns? Would you still smile when I came into the room if my face didn't make you forget to breathe? Would you still love me if I rolled into a room instead of bounced?

How strong is your love for me?

Can it survive separation? Can it survive infidelity? Can it survive cruelty or indifference? Can it survive imperfection? Can it survive tragedy or loss? Can it survive pain? Can it survive fans and foes? Can it survive time?

I watch you across the room… your head bend looking down at the notepad you are writing in reading the words you just put down. You're probably writing something few of us will truly understand, but will make complete sense to you. I guess that's one a them reasons I love you so much. No matter what you do, I can't help but look at you and love you. Even when you're at you're worst there's just something about you that just… makes me weak. When you're at your best, I can't help but feel small and inadequate and very lucky to have you love me.

And love me you do. Why I'll never know. You could have any man in the locker room and yet you stick with me. After all these years I am the one you love. Maybe I ain't the only one you love. Maybe I ain't the one you love the most all the time. But I am the one that deep down in your heart you'll whisper I love you to when you take your last breath. I know that like I know my own name.

For years I loved your brother asking myself the same question about him even thought in my heart I knew the answer… I cried on your shoulder every time he did me wrong asking WHY WHY WHY couldn't he just love me? Everytime you'd ask me what makes me think he don't? Now I know the answer. It wasn't that I that he didn't love me it was that he didn't love me like this… like you do.

Walking across the room I put my hands on your shoulders and immediately your head turns smiling at me softly. On the paper in front of you the series of lines, moves, and people are forgotten as you turn and narrow our world down to just you and I. Like always I let you take over. Never in my life have I strived to take charge in this situation and with you it is no different.

Picking me up you cross the room carrying me up the stairs and down the hall to our bedroom… the bedroom you designed just for us. Gently you lay me down on the soft cotton sheets and spread my hair out so it fans across the pillow. Slowly your head lowers until our lips touch softly at first then ever so slowly you deepen it until my eyelids fall shut feeling weighted down by a thousand pounds. Fortunately I don't need sight to see you lift your head and rain kisses all over my face then down my neck and across my collarbone.

I don't need sight to feel your hands roam over my body as it undresses me easing off my shirt and slipping down my pants. I don't need sight to know your mouth is again roaming over my bare chest and stomach. I don't need eyes to know I love every moment. I already feel my body tingling as you bring it back singing to life. I sigh then gasp as your mouth roams lower touching places that only reach their peak of stimulation under your loving attention. You know everything I need, every thing I love, everything that makes me beg and you give it to me before I have to.

Your fingers slip inside me and as they slide in and out stretching tenderly you make sure I am brought even further into the heaven you are creating just for us in this very room. Just before I think I can't take anymore of your tender mercy you leave me and I can't help but cry out at your loss now begging truly for your return. As always when you do it is without comparison and expertly you stroke me inside and out working our bodies like a classical instrument creating a symphony of sensations and feelings that I am sure have never been felt but two other people.

When it comes time for the finale I hear the percussion and the bass lines die out leaving only the two of us singing like violins as we cry out our love quietly, lovingly, completely together just as it should be and always will be. Slowly you withdraw and crawling up the bed roll me over to lay on you with my head cradled in the crook of your neck where I always feel safest and most loved. Quietly I lay as I do every night and listen to your breathing even out as you slip into sleep. But I fight it as long as I can wanting to just be here listening to you breath. In my moment of loving comfortable solitude I think again to the question that haunted me earlier.

Would you still love me if I weren't pretty anymore?

There is really only one answer to that question. And fortunately for the #1 Mattitude follower the answer to that is a simple little…. Yes.

The End