Beauty in Tragedy.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

The term “beauty” is such a desperately distracting word. The Merriam-Webster definition of beauty is “the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit.” Nowadays people are preoccupied with being one of the beautiful people but who is to say what true beauty is? I can find true pleasure in something that another one might find repulsive or ugly. For me, beauty is not a standard. It is an opinion.

Chocolate stimulates my senses in just about all ways. I have a feeling a lot of women will agree with me on this.

The sight of a piece of chocolate makes me smile with anticipation of being able to eat it. When I open the wrapper, the sounds of the paper or foil will make my mouth water and my tongue escape to lick my lips. The scent of chocolate will give me cause to close my eyes and sigh, a comforting scent that reminds me of cookies baking in the oven or smores by a campfire. It triggers memories inside that I forget until the tendrils of scent reach my nose. Then the taste. Each piece of chocolate is different but they all have the same qualities of richness and flavor. Savoring each bite of my candy and making it last is difficult when I want to devour the whole thing, but I wait and take a bite softly, letting it rest on my tongue. I wait for it to melt before sliding down my throat. And don’t forget to lick the melted chocolate from your fingertips. One last taste before the confection is a memory.

So, technically… chocolate is beautiful. Now, to someone who is allergic to chocolate, the senses won’t feel the same and so they won’t experience the same joy in the beauty of piece of candy that I do.

But the same can be said about a man. A man I find beautiful might not appeal to you or your friends. Someone with a scar, for example, might not reach your beauty standards, but me? I find scars sexy. I feel that someone with a scar has a story to tell and a battle to be proud of. But only certain men stimulate our senses.

The sight of a sexy man walking towards you will make you smile and something low in your body curl. The feel of his arms wrapping around you will bring an army of goosebumps to your skin and make you arch your body closer to his. The scent of his cologne fills your lungs when you take a deep breath and reminds you of dark corners and tangled sheets from the last encounters you had with him, bringing memories to surface of long nights spent in his arms. The taste of his lips as you kiss them delicately, opening your mouth a little bit to let the tip of your tongue trace his bottom lip, will hit you like a drug making you dizzy and cling to him. Hearing his moan begin deep in his throat, makes delicate places on your body tingle and tremble with the want of his hands touching you. When your name escapes his lips and hits your ears… heaven.

Now THAT is fucking beauty.

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2 Responses to “Beauty in Tragedy.”

  1. I once told myself I could find beauty in anything or anyone. So far, it’s been an interesting quest and most of the time I find a sparkle no matter how dark and twisted the source is.

  2. That was perfect. I loved the structure, the metaphors and the segue. Love ~Blue

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