scent of a woman
You never forget the essence of a person.
The essence of someone is the memory that comes to mind when you reminisce about an almost-forgotten past you both shared. It's the wrinkles next to his eyes when he smiles, the way he always sleeps in fetal position facing right, and the scent of tide laundry detergent on his clothes. It's his smart, yet innocent humor; his large size 11 shoes by the door when you come home; the warmness of his palm against yours when your fingers intertwine. It's even the memory of what his presence felt like when he was happy, and the difference between the sound of a polite laugh and a heartfelt chuckle from his lips.
The essence of a person haunts you long after a relationship has dissolved away. When two people part separate ways, their essences mix together. They walk away with a different scent; two aromas infused together as one. Their essence has changed. Each time lives are shared, fragrances are interwoven. Too many shared lives results in a perfume barely recognizable to the scent-holder herself. Memories cannot be erased. The past can be healed, but the memories will always remain.
I don't want the essence of any more people blended with mine. I want my fragrance to be pure and untainted. I want my own scent back: the one that smelled like me, and only me, before life took it's purity away. Just as I have no right to invade the heart of another person who is not my husband, no one has the right my heart. It's precious, and I'm guarding it with a passion, until I meet the one I'm going to share my life with. Only then will I let myself be infused with another. Until that moment, I'll be on a journey of discovering what my true fragrance smells like. I have forgotten my pure essence before it was mixed with the memories of others.
The essence of someone is the memory that comes to mind when you reminisce about an almost-forgotten past you both shared. It's the wrinkles next to his eyes when he smiles, the way he always sleeps in fetal position facing right, and the scent of tide laundry detergent on his clothes. It's his smart, yet innocent humor; his large size 11 shoes by the door when you come home; the warmness of his palm against yours when your fingers intertwine. It's even the memory of what his presence felt like when he was happy, and the difference between the sound of a polite laugh and a heartfelt chuckle from his lips.
The essence of a person haunts you long after a relationship has dissolved away. When two people part separate ways, their essences mix together. They walk away with a different scent; two aromas infused together as one. Their essence has changed. Each time lives are shared, fragrances are interwoven. Too many shared lives results in a perfume barely recognizable to the scent-holder herself. Memories cannot be erased. The past can be healed, but the memories will always remain.
I don't want the essence of any more people blended with mine. I want my fragrance to be pure and untainted. I want my own scent back: the one that smelled like me, and only me, before life took it's purity away. Just as I have no right to invade the heart of another person who is not my husband, no one has the right my heart. It's precious, and I'm guarding it with a passion, until I meet the one I'm going to share my life with. Only then will I let myself be infused with another. Until that moment, I'll be on a journey of discovering what my true fragrance smells like. I have forgotten my pure essence before it was mixed with the memories of others.