September 07, 2006
He wore navy blue socks and black shoes. As a child I had decided I would be a spy in the CIA so I started to watch everyone around me as practice, this still continues. Anyway we wore navy blue socks and black shoes, as I took off my backpack to sit down at the computer next to him I got a whiff of his scent. He smelled the same as someone I used to know, very well. Someone whom I loved and I loved his scent of coffee and cigarettes. Not being a coffee drinker or smoker myself, (expect for that brief month in January) I would often lie in bed holding his long fingers and smelling his scent, had he known I’m sure he would have thought me insane, as I may very well be. We had some good times me and that coffee drinker, a long torturous run if you will. In the end I don’t think we could have hurt each other more and yet when my olfactory senses were filled with his familiar notes I couldn’t help but smile. Smile at the memories that issued forth upon sitting at the computer next to this other boy with the terrible fashion faux pas. He looked nothing like my former friend, they were of different ethnicities and he wore one of those beanie hats with a bill (a terrible fashion device as well) however he was wearing khaki pants which I found intriguing as my former friend and lover only wore khaki pants. All the days and years I knew him I couldn’t count more then ten times I saw him in some other form of pants whether denim, dress or wool. It was his uniform if you will and he wore it well, I was attracted anyway. Ah but my initial attraction to this character, this cigarette smoker, is a fateful story unto itself.