Nostalgia is a smell.

Once again, thinking about the day we met. It was a mutual friends birthday, I believe I called him Corey before. Corey’s family had a small place down at the lake, and he had invited me, JD, and one or two more of his closest friends to come down and go out on the boat.

 

JD was so different from the guys I was used to. He already had a tattoo on his left arm even though he was still in high school.
He smoked Marlboro Reds.  I had always hated smoking, but it was different when he did it. I found the way his face sucked in to reveal his sharp cheekbones was..entrancing.
He took his coffee black and told me that powered creamer was flammable.
He cussed a lot. I had never even really said a single curse word (remember, private school girl)
He told me he was an atheist, and for the first time in my life, I really couldn’t care less that he didn’t have the same religious beliefs as me.
His hair was black and permanently in a spiky mess, no matter how many times he ran his hand through it.
His eyes were a dark brown, highlighted with whispers of caramel. When he smiled or laughed, his eyes would squinch up into slits so small, you couldn’t even see the color of them anymore.

He gave me his t-shirt at the end of the day, because I said I was cold. It had an Avenged Sevenfold logo on it, complete with skulls and bat wings. The shirt smelled like him. Of sweat and Axe. I used to smell it every day before carefully folding it back up and putting in away, hoping it would keep its smell forever. I don’t remember exactly when I got rid of it, but I don’t think I have it anymore. I wish I did. How cool would it have been to say that I still have the shirt from the day we met?
I do however have a picture of him I sneaked when he wasn’t looking.

I’m sitting here on the floor in my bedroom as I type this. I’m waiting for my old MacBook Pro to start up so I can look for that picture. It’ll also give me an exact day.

Two hours.
It took me two hours to dig back deep enough in my computer to find those pictures, but fuck, I’m so happy I did. I met him July 21st, 2010. Almost exactly seven years ago.
The pictures are exactly as I remember them, but they seem like a lifetime ago.. I am no longer the person I was that day. When I think back, I don’t see the memories through my eyes, I see them from an outside perspective. I see a thin, carefree girl who had just barely broken the ice on what was to be to be an iceberg of depression hiding deep under the surface. She didn’t know the pain that was to come. She didn’t know that one day her left arm and her right thigh would be so crisscrossed with scars that you couldn’t even tell where the blade had started and ended.
I wish I could have warned her. I wish I could have kept her safe. I wish I could have kept her in her ignorant bubble of bliss forever, and for that, I’m so very sorry.

 

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