That scent… like a bittersweet, maddening perfume.
The first time I perceived it was almost a year ago, on my right hand. It took me some time to notice it, to be honest (I don’t “smell” my hand that frequently). It was from a woman’s, that I knew, but it wasn’t really strong… and it didn’t feel like a perfume, even. I tried to remember whom it might have been from, but the scent became a drug, and I stopped thinking.
A week passed, and I found myself sitting besides the person I believed was the source of such an addictive aroma. She was one of my classmates at one of the courses I took that semester. Due some unexpected happenings, played by destiny, I found myself sharing a table with her in said course, and ended up working together the whole semester.
We started to talk about various things, and she was really pleasant to be with but, as per usual, she was already beyond my reach: another career, and with one foot out of college, practically. Then, that delicious smell started to fade away from her, and I realized she wasn’t the one with the maddening perfume. It persisted, but I didn’t want another disappointment.
Days, and weeks, and months passed, and I find myself alone, in the office, trying to write a proposal for my social service work, when I started to fiddle with my glasses. Then, I noticed that scent in my hand. Curiously enough, I didn’t meet any girl, yet it was there, subtly, but firm. I decide to wander around a bit, and I headed down to buy some snacks.
I still tried to pinpoint the scent’s owner, and after pondering a while, I thought of a friend. She’s the one who’s been “closest” to me these past semesters, the one who’s more likely to use that perfume, and also the one I hug more frequently (I’m quite fond of her). Then, while buying chips at the kiosk, I caught a glimpse of her. I went straight towards her, said hello, hugged her, and stood there for a short while, trying real hard to grab her essence. Then, I excused myself, said goodbye, and returned to the office, to continue with my routine.
I mentioned this to another friend, and she told me that probably I’m in love with her, but that I haven’t realized it yet. I find the idea rather improbable, and quite trollish, to begin with. And I rather prefer it to be that way, than a possibility. I’ve had enough of sentimental shit to torment me for a while. But, even so…
… I still can feel her scent in my hand.