I miss holding your hand. I miss the way you look at me, like you truly believe I’m worth something.
I like it. So much. Because when you look at me and stroke my cheek with your soft fingers, I believe it too. And when you hug me from behind in front of the bathroom mirror, as we wait for the water to go from freezing to scalding, I can see what you see. And I don’t hate the fat on my belly and the cellulite dips on my thighs (the ones I stare at so hard during muay thai practice and will them away). At that moment, I love my flabby arms (still flabby, despite 4x weekly workouts), I love it all! And you…
I love your big belly and your thunder thighs and your chubby cheeks. And I know you hate them like I hate my “problem areas”. I know you look at your nakedness and think of one million ways to get thin and get buff. But I look at you, half asleep, after an intense orgasm, and my heart overflows. Because you are beautiful. And I’ll repeat it forever. I’ll say it loud enough for your brain to register (but not loud enough to wake you up) so when the morning suns comes and wakes us up, you’ll believe it. And I know you’ll do the same for me.
According to the hospital, the surgery went swimmingly!