(1 of 1. Originally posted on March 10, 2023 for the prompt “The scent of ____ brings me back.”)
The scent of roses brings me back, and I see your face. It brings me to life.
Before I knew you, I knew I wanted to. I always know what I want. The trick is convincing you of it – you never settle on anything. You need new and exciting. You never order the same meal twice, never wear the same outfit, never have a relationship that lasts more than a week. You need variety. You need originality. I’m not impulsive. I just need you. The strongest walls will crack, if you hit them hard enough for long enough. Persistence is my strong suit. I know I’ve won, when the color of your cheeks matches the color of the flowers I bring you.
The scent of coffee brings me back, and I see your face. It brings me to tears.
We sit across from each other in angry silence, you with your fancy foamy flavor of the week, and me with my dark black drip. Before we fought, I knew your quirks as the best part of you. I’m not impulsive. I know what I want—you, but better. If you’d only let me help you see what’s best. The parts I used to love are the parts that bother me most. You need change, but I need you to see that sometimes there is only one best way, and that’s the way we all should be. I just need you to make the right changes. But you want change for everything except yourself. Love and hate can grow from the same seeds, depending on what you water them with. Funny how the same word can be happy when describing the sky, but sad when describing the heart.
The scent of smoke brings me back, and I see your face. It brings me to despair.
Before you left, I knew you didn’t want to. But you play it like a game, with crocodile tears and silence that wants to speak. You change your mind seven times a minute, just to see how I’ll respond, until even you don’t know what you really want.
I just need you gone. I just need you to stay. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what I need. I’m not impulsive. I just need two opposing things. I set our house on fire because I can’t stand to have any part of you left. I run inside to find something of yours to save, because I can’t stand to have nothing left of you. But passion can’t sustain a relationship when there is no freedom to be, and passion can’t sustain a body when there is no air to breathe. My strength gives out before I find what I’m looking for.
The scent of smelling salts brings me back, and I see your face.