I miss the girl smell. It’s so wonderful.
You know what I’m talking about. When you lend a girl your sweater, and she gives it back to you a couple days later, and it has that aroma. That smell that makes your heart sob. Makes you weak in the stomach.
It’s even worse if you love the girl. You never want that feeling to go away. I could never bring myself to wash away the girl smell. I always felt like she put it there, just for me to enjoy. Like it was the only gift she could afford to give me.
One time, I held on to the girl smell. I tucked the sweater away in my closet, figuring I could always pull it out when I needed her. I honestly never thought she’d leave me, so I’d never need the smell.
When she left, it hurt. I couldn’t stand it. I had forgotten about the sweater, but not the smell. Never the smell. I can only imagine that’s what people who lived through wars felt like. The time was gone, but the smells and noises were always going to be there. Haunting your spirit. I know she haunted mine.
Then, a few months later, I was going through my closet. I could smell it. For a moment, all I could do was kneel there and soak it in. For a little while I thought she was right behind me, waiting. I knew better, though.
I started digging. It was so strong I couldn’t figure out how I had missed it for so long. Then, I found it. That red, tattered, Wisconsin Badgers sweater. I held it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Every bit of me ached. I longed for her touch. I needed her.
I pulled the sweater away and looked at it. I felt it. I longed for her to be in it. I longed for her to be there, period. I never really thought she could hurt me again. But she did.
That night I dreamt of smelling her. When we would lay together in her bed, holding each other. I’d inhale deeply and drift off into bliss, riding the smell.
It’s been years now. I’ve had the girl smell since, but it’s never been as good as that time. Never that powerful. I’m afraid. So afraid that I’ll never find the smell again.
God I miss that smell.