Smells

I have an extremely responsive sense of smell. I can walk into any room and pick up on even the slightest of unsavory odors. Recently, I walked into my boyfriend's apartment and proclaimed "It reeks of old yogurt in this place!" And it did. I sniffed around for awhile, before I chalked it up to my overly sensitive nostrils. I tend to have nasty odor paranoia; unpleasant smells stay in my system, so I project them upon environments that aren't appropriate. On the flip side, I can also thoroughly enjoy pleasant smells on a level of nirvana-like pleasure. Every human I have ever loved can be summarized by their olfactory cocktail.


For instance, the faintest whiff of lilacs immediately takes me to my childhood backyard. My mother's lilac bushes- only blooming for that magical week in mid-June-causing the house to brim with aromatic waves of floral glory. Heavenly! Sadly, they wilted quickly and emitted a sickly perfume....ah well! My eldest brother, Sean, will always be the odor of sweat, marijuana, and Tommy Hilfiger cologne. Ryan, our proverbial middle child, carries the heavy fragrance of mildewy-basement, fabric softener, and aftershave. 


My boyfriend Matt; he has a distinct fragrance. He wafts a beautiful combination of vanilla, soap, and fresh rain. My grandma Hussey conjures the distinct smell of pink. I know that sounds silly, but she smelled of pink! Like a mixture of flowers and laundry detergent that howled pink in my young mind. 


Smells have a strong impact on my emotions. It not only applies to the smell that clings to those I love, but also to the smells THEY love. If they fancy a particular food; you best be sure that I will hold that trace of culinary inclination within my heart; in the deepest bowels of my emotional reservoir.