Today in drill team practice, there was a strong wind, and the sun was caressing my skin. The weather was beautiful, the kind of thing you dream about. Three days until competition, but my mind is on the breeze, combing it as it travels in through my nostrils. There it is again- that smell. Spicy, like cloves, with a hint of something very masculine. Not sweat. Cheap shaving cream? Almost acidic, biting at my nostrils...and the sweet smell. It's not cinnamon, a less discerning nose would think so. The sweet smell, that's the pheromones. I smell him. I smell his smell and I miss it more than my cat that died a year ago, more than the innocence I gave up willingly, more even than the childhood things lost to me. I turn my head to follow the source- has he come to watch? He watches sometimes, and helps the armed team. Maybe I will see him again, and we will lock eyes like we do every time, blank and afraid and welcoming yet intensely hurt, distant, and angry, all at once. But he's not there. Not anywhere. I hug my teammates as practice is dismissed, and quickly find the scent. Tiff smells like him. How strange. I ask what laundry detergent she uses, that's not it. She doesn't know him, so that's not it either. I don't know what it is, but it makes me miss him.
Later on, after practice, getting in the car with Blue. Giving him a hug and I smell his cologne, his own mix of Axe, Adidas, and Gravity ('panty dropper number nine'). I remember the day last year when we stepped out of the shallows of friendship, if only for a day. I ask him about it, he says that it was so wonderful on that day, but now that we are closer, it's not for him. I'm glad we see that, both of us. I remember that day well. I remember feeling my skin crawling, coming alive at his touch. I remember clutching him so closely, lost in the world that day because I was tired of standing up to it. I remember thinking how good it felt to let someone else hold me up, and then I remember crying. I remember how he didn't push me to go farther, he just held me. I remember that day knowing that he was the best person I knew.
Walking into the color guard at the boys' club. Smells of sweat masked by Lemon Cleaner and catered Barbecue assault my nose, and I revel in the glories of childhood for a moment. A meticulously clean boy of summer strides up, is introduced by my friend, his boyfriend. A firm, military handshake, and a "ma'am." If I had forgotten about my uniform, it was apparent now. Any show of affection isn't shown until the three of us are back in the safety of the truck. Discussion ensues about taking risks for the ones you care about. I worry that this new boy will be beat down by the ones around him that don't understand. He asks me if I would take risks like that for love. I tell him that I wouldn't, and proceed to explain that I would not risk putting my loved ones through a funeral. It gets quiet in the car, I don't remember what he said after that, it was falling on deaf ears. I care about my friend too much to let an airman bring a shadow on his life.
Home at last. Parental cigarette smoke fills the air. This smell is the amniotic fluid of my life, and I hate it. I go to my room and cleanse it from my nostrils. New clothing, burning lavendar. Talking to friends far, far away through a keyboard. And inscribing my day somewhere so it isn't lost.
