Wednesday, April 14, 2010 @10:07 PM
You Smell So Good
I'm just sitting around remembering him... when I remember that I have one of his t-shirts upstairs. And that his t-shirt is absolutely dripping with his smell. I went so, so long without giving in and breathing in his scent. But then I couldn't take it anymore, and I had to. I buried my face in the fabric of his shirt. It smells so goddamn good.
Which brought me back to the last night that I actually had hope for the two of us. When I thought I could be patient. The night that I went to his house for no good reason and found him in his room, smoking with April. (I think they were smoking pot. It didn't smell like cigarette smoke.) I made him come out and talk to me. He was rather sullen, and when he did actually look at me, he glared at me. And then I remembered the few seconds that I sat close to him, begging him, pleading with him, asking him over and over to give me the one last chance, telling him he owed it to me after all that we had been through, and I could smell him. I could smell the rich scent of his deoderant, the smell of the smoke, and the soft almost invisible smell that always lingers on his skin. I kissed his forehead. I kissed his hair. It smelled faintly of smoke. (It smelled good.)
And then, the other day in class, I swear, I could smell him sitting in front of me. I could smell the faint odor of the smoke, and I wanted to bathe myself in it. It smelled so, so,
so good.
Which brings me to the whole thing about him smoking pot...
...It was never that I didn't approve of him smoking pot. It was more that I'm jealous because he can do something like that. I can't. I'll never be able to. I'm far too afraid of my parents and the police and the rumors. (But somewhere inside of me, I was always hoping that he'd get me drunk and that he'd ask me to come to his parties and that he'd want to do stupid things with me, but he never did.)
He always thought I was like this perfect little fucking princess, and I wish I had been able to show him that I'm not. Well, that I don't want to be the prissy princess anymore. I want to have fun, I want to do things that I've never done. I actually do want to drink, and suddenly I actually really do want to try pot, if only just once.
But mostly I just want Mitch back in my life... & I don't care what lengths I'd have to go to.
@9:57 PM
debating
I personally love this piece. It's choppy, it doesn't flow, but it's so full of the fear and everything else I was feeling for that entire month (that I still feel now... but I've gotten better at hiding it). It's so full of every emotion that I was afraid to admit to feeling. It's kind of written to him (Mitchell, I mean), but at the same time it's one that isn't personal at all. It's one that I want everyone that has been in my place to be able to feel and relate to.