Gone without a trace

Dear N,

Do you remember the time we went to see the Bodice Rippers and the Extra Action Marching Band in Oakland? The pounding beats and sexy dancers fueled our desire for each other. We danced until our feet were numb. Sweaty from our gyrations, we could barely keep our hands off each other on the drive home. I recall attacking each other as soon as we walked in the door, kissing and groping each other and pulling clothes off as we stumbled to the bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me close to help me take off my corset. Our skin slipped against each other as I climbed on top of you.

You had a unique smell that I could never quite figure out. You may or may not be aware of this, but the sense of smell is more closely related to memory than any other sense. Due to the fact that the olfactory bulb runs from your nose to the base of your brain and has direct connections to your amygdala and hippocampus (areas responsible for processing emotion and memory), neuroscientists have suggested that this close physical connection between the regions of the brain linked to memory, emotion, and our sense of smell may explain why our brain learns to associate smells with certain emotional memories.

Environmentalist that you were, I knew you didn’t shower every day, but you did on the days you saw me. I could tell because your long hair and Gandalf-like beard were always damp when you got here. You had an earthy smell. Maybe it was the soap you used or the detergent you used for your clothes. It wasn’t body odor or dirty. It wasn’t off-putting in the least. Or offensive. It was just …you. I loved how my sheets smelled like you for days. I’d hold the pillow close to me, and it felt like you were still next to me. A slender, lithe sleeping cat who would roll over to spoon me.

Your long arms reached over to the nightstand and took a condom out of the drawer. With your arms above your head, you skillfully took it out of the packaging. You reached down to roll it onto your cock and pulled me down on top of it -all in one smooth move.

Our bodies moved as one. I could still hear the pulsing music from just hours before thumping in my head as I rode your beautiful cock. A wave of orgasm coursed through my body. You shuddered in response. I loved how your whole body would twitch after coming. It was like you were offering every last drop to me. Finally able to catch our breath, we opened the window to let in the cool air as we snuggled close and fell asleep. A perfect ending to a perfect evening.

A year later, it was not so perfect. You had come over to say that your primary partner was asking you to close up your relationship and that you would no longer be able to see me. We talked for an hour. I cried. You hugged me as you left, and you blew me a bittersweet kiss as you walked out the door.

I walked over to the couch where you had been sitting and picked up the pillow you’d been leaning on. I buried my face in the pillow, hoping to breathe in your familiar scent one last time. But…nothing. I smelled nothing. It just smelled like…a pillow.

It feels crazy to say it, but I believe it was my body helping me move on. She would not allow me to clutch this pillow to me as a reminder of you and soak my despair into the fabric. You had moved on in every way…And so would I.


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