I loathe it. I loathe it with every fiber of my being. I will be lying in my bed, relaxing on a lazy morning. My mind wandering, thinking of a line read from a long lost book and that's when I catch his scent. It's subtle at first but then as I take in a deep breathe it becomes distinctly recognizable. Memories of the of the past begin to flood my mind and I can no longer bear to lay in my own bed. I cannot be sleep where he has slept. The scent wafts under my nose and I begin to realize where its coming from. From my sheets and from the pillow on which he had rested his head. It's transferred to my clothes and hair. Its imprinted on my bare skin. No shower is long enough to wash away those past traces. I cannot scrub away his presence and he will liner on eternally in my mind. I ripped the linens of my bed and stripped down and toss them all in the washer for the hottest cycle possible. All of this because of a scent....
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