Blanketed

After work, after the drive, I unlocked the door to our home. There was cabbage in the air - a baked dish. The fridge held it concentrated. There was this blanket smell I had no control over & for some reason the antithesis to it seemed lonely - to come home to a space which is only inhabited with scent & spirit once I enter & even then, the smell of me isn't something I can recognize. There's something about smell, whether pleasing or dis, that makes a home a home.

In therapy I say, "This might sound whatever, but I miss the smell. Have you ever missed the smell of someone?" "Uh..." "--like this particular smell is like skin, warmth, a smell I don't think I'll find elsewhere. If I could just have that smell again...you know? I have no idea. Have you ever missed the smell of someone?" "I don't really want to talk about that." "I'm sorry..." "It's, uh, you know, painful. I don't think I want to go there." "I get it." I hit a nerve in the therapist. Actualizing loss. But it makes me trust him more, after a year, it's just now that I trust he knows what it means to feel it. This comes from what he isn't telling me.

The other day I did a walk-through of an apartment that felt like New York or San Francisco. It was long and thin, wood floors, limited counter spaces. All the heat was stuck stagnant in the long thin bathroom, in need to seep out to steam the rest of the rooms. Sliding wood panels hid between the walls to create or cut off varying spaces. The couple were moving to Seattle & this place was covered in the smell of them. It was not my own sort of pleasant, but theirs, and the place felt like it could accept varying pleasants. In the end it was not something I wanted to fight for, for some reason deeper than I can explain.

A few weeks ago I smelled something I wanted to hold on to. I'm not sure what memory it was attached to. But I remember stopping still & breathing deep until it went away, for good. It made me feel connected somehow. I think that sometimes love is a smell that feels like home.