Ever since I can remember scent has been my strongest sense. Walking through my grandmother's front door and the way her house smells always reminds me of my childhood. Then there are other scents, like the smell of fresh-cut grass (which I love), warm summer rain, the way the beach smells in the early morning when it's still empty and I'm the only one there. The way my children smelled when they were babies when I kissed their little heads at bedtime. Then we get to the way He smells. His cologne that only smells that way on him. I know this because like a fool I tried to buy it for someone else and got duped. I went in for the deep inhale and wham! It was different in every way it could be different. It lost that sweet lingering tease that tickled my nose and sent chills down my spine. It didn't make me melt into his arms. My clothes did not instantly fall off. No, this was all wrong. It was then that I started to realize that not only was the scent all wrong but so was everything else. We didn't talk for hours about art and love. The music that played in the background was off too. It sounded distorted, not like the sweet sounds that I had shared with Him before. Out of the blue, He would grab me by the small of my back and we would dance. All the while my face would be nestled in his chest inhaling the sweet smell that only came from him. It's been some time now since I've had the pleasure of that scent. Once in a blue moon, I'll catch a hint of it on someone. and it stops me in my tracks.
~M
