Hello...

A couple weeks ago, I found your old bottle of body-wash. The one that I was obsessed with before you left. I simply cannot stand the smell of it anymore. Floods too many memories.

For instance, the time where we went on the Ferris Wheel in Cincinnati, and you held me close because it was a bit chilly that night near the Ohio River. The smell engulfed itself into my nostrils and send dopamine straight to my brain. Or that other time when we had sex for the first time, and you whispered quietly in my ear while that same smell intoxicated me, "You are perfect." I cried you know. I don't believe you noticed it, but I did. I have never had those words said to me before you said them and you made me feel like I had finally mattered.

But now, when I smell that damn body-wash, my mind is shut down, knowing that you're gone and I can't get you back. The smell infuriates me. How dare you leave the way you did? How dare you promise that you would stay for me, for your family, and then leave? You acted like we would be okay without you here. Like I would be alright without you here. I'm not.

So, I started using that stupid fucking body-wash to try and get rid of it, because I could never bear to throw it away. It flooded my nose and my bathroom and seeped into the walls. My bed-set smells like it, now. Everything just smells like you and I couldn't stand it. Your jacket even smells like it now, and you've been gone for a month.

But I have been learning. I have to allow myself to be happy, even though your actions have internally destroyed me. You have broken down something that you have worked so hard to bring back up. Nevertheless, I must go on with life, and realize that I can't be stuck in this rut for the rest of my worthless days.

So now, the body-wash doesn't smell like you. It doesn't smell like our adventures and our connections. It doesn't smell like memories and reminiscence. It smells like me. It smells like my bathroom. Like lavender and men. It smells like my walls, and my bedroom. It smells like soft skin on a summer afternoon after swimming with a bunch of your friends. It smells like soap.