March 16

I stood in line behind someone today. I am normally inside my own head. In my own little world. Unobservant. But I noticed him. He wasn’t interesting or eccentric or attractive.

He was just wearing your cologne.

It soaked into my bloodstream almost instantly. It made my head swim. It intoxicated me and flooded my heart with memories of you.

My eyes welled up. Because nobody has ever hurt me the way you did.

I wanted to cry. But I didn’t cry. You aren’t worth it. You’ve already stolen too much of my life away and you won’t steal anymore of that precious saltwater mixture from my body. I would rather waste sweat on strangers than tears on such an old but familiar hurt.

I hate you. Is that strange? I have forgiven you, (for my own sake, not for your benefit on any level). But I hate you. I always, always wish you nothing but the worst.

But in that moment, my body trembling with remembrance of you, I felt something far more powerful than hate. I missed you. I missed you so much. You stole my dignity, my confidence, my pride, my trust. But sometimes, sometimes I needed to be held and your arms were the only ones who would hold me.

That was a lonely time in my life. You isolated me. But you were there. You were always, always there.

You’re still there. In the corners of my mind. In the shadows of my nightmare.

I’ll never forget your scent.

It is the vomit of my memories.