She pursued him like a brave, elegant lioness.
She strode up to him, a confident sway in her hips,
The smell of jasmine and rose emanating, like messy rays of sun, from her skin;
She walked up to him with power, with beauty, with the distilled presence of all that she was written on her naked face.
With the spiciness of her cinnamon lipstick,
She looked him right in the eye and said the three simplest words in the English language,
“How are you?”
Not a pick-up line, not an invitation to her bed, but a way to discover him,
To see if he was a man worthy of her kiss.
For she was not a subtle woman—
She chased her dreams with a heart full of wildfire;
She pursued her passions with gritty dedication, with sweet, ballsy brilliance,
Why should love be any different?
She wasn’t about to wait around and try to impress a man with icy indifference;
She wasn’t about to dull herself down to a flimsy fraction of who she was so that a man might like her;
She wasn’t about to forsake her soul, her truth, her beliefs—
Not for anyone.
She had scared men away before—sure—but they weren’t the men for her.
She knew that now.
And she was done hiding the petals of her messy beauty—
Her heart was a chaotic tumbling waterfall masterpiece of words and paint-splattered truths,
Her soul was adventurous and gritty, filled with rugged, crackling mountains and bright purple dahlias
She was done holding back.
And she was done buying into Comsopolitan advice column bullsh*t that women shouldn’t chase men—
She knew better.
She had wasted too many nights waiting by the phone, paralyzed by her own exhausting inaction of what women are “supposed” to do, eaten alive by her endless fear of being “too much.”
But she was not too much; she was more than juicy, just enough to be f***ing awesome, lovable, kind, and fire-sparkin’ delicious.
And she was done buying into ridiculous dating rule books and playing the role of damsel in distress—
It was time to make her own rules.
She had a fierce heart. She always knew what she wanted; it was time she listened.
Because in that moment, when she saw him, she felt something deep inside her gut spring to life, and she knew she wanted him—
So, she chased him.
This man, this sweet, incredible man with kindness in his eyes and blazin’ bravery in his soul—
She didn’t wait three days to call him.
She didn’t wait at all.
She didn’t put on a sparkly, plastic, shimmer-dusted show for him;
She didn’t pretend.
She was unhinged, unedited, genuine—
She was real.
And he wasn’t scared away, he was blown away.
He fell madly for her fire,
Her ballsy, tender soul,
Her wild weirdness,
Her gritty honesty.
He wasn’t intimidated by her power. He was touched, he was moved, his jaw dropped to the floor,
Because she wasn’t a pretend angel coated in fake white rose petals.
She was a living, breathing, roarin’ woman
With blistering love in her heart,
Desire in her bones,
With truth, with beauty, with failure, with delicious flaws flowing through her veins—
He was shocked in the best of ways.
She was the tornado he never saw coming
The lightning bolt that struck the core of his being,
The love that made him believe in life again.
He stepped closer to her with every truth-soaked heartbeat
Until their lips met in an explosive kiss
That shook their souls like wild whipping winds.
They fell in love because she was honest with him,
Because he was honest with her.
He was the kind of man who loved a brave woman, who loved boldness, in spirit, in soul—
He was the kind of man worth every assh*le she ever knew—
He was the kind of man
Who appreciated something
A Man Worthy of Your Kiss.
Author: Sarah Harvey
Editor: Toby Israel
Photo: Mia Isara/Flickr
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