We had nothing in the fridge. Few eggs and a guacamole. I decided to brave the storm, the snow and the cold, even though it was late. I wanted to share the evening snack with Wonderboy and end the weekend with more than a yellowish light from the empty fridge. I put on wool leggins, ordinary leggins, shirt after shirt. Finally I stood there in the doorway my hands stuffed apart from my body like the Michelin-man. I put the hood on and said: I need a kiss before I go. Wonderboy raised his head from the dishes he was doing and suddenly his expression changed.
You’re so beautiful, he said breathily. He braised the hair that run out from under my hood and across my chest, the big chunky chest of my insulation winter jacket which is not very flattering to the shape. Then he kissed me.
I don’t even have any make up on and I’m dressed like this. I raised my hands to show him what I was wearing, what I looked like. I had my glasses on, no make up, some jojoba oil still on my skin from washing it and the buffed up wardrobe. But he already knew, he’d already seen it.
To him I am the most beautiful woman alive.
This is why I’m happy that for once in my life I went to talk to the most beautiful man in the world, and didn’t settle for the okay nice guys. He turned out to be nice, beautiful and combatible. I’ve never felt so beautiful and wanted as I do with him.