When your memory fades, scent is the last to go, if at all. But with him, scent was the first to go…
I know he smells of “cigarette and cologne” but I can no longer remember the exact combination that made the scent unique to him. They’re vague words that I use singularly and combined; they create generic scents but I can’t remember the version that is his. I can no longer pull it up as I pull up a file in my memory like when I think of dove soap, imagine the smell and remember the time I buried my nose in his neck and inhaled that intoxicating I-have-just-showered-and-put-on-a-freshly-laundered-shirt smell. OR when my best friend tells me her scent is Ralph Lauren Romance, and I laugh because I swear I can smell him (“Junior and Jolie’s dad”) right there and then. Just as real as the first time I pulled the bottle off the dresser, sprayed it mid air and he watched me dance under the falling mist.
If my subconscious could speak, it’s probably telling me, “I’m keeping the ones I like, doing away with the ones that break, burn, and end.” and I would probably reply, “Patience, I think we’re almost there.”
There are times when I genuinely wonder if I could ever be wifed up. Not because of the future Mister but because of ME. I truly question if I will be able to get rid of my single girl behaviour and tendencies and eliminate the habits that have been part of my life for the last thirty odd years. Single life is selfish, you live for yourself, what you want, when you want and within your own time frame. That is something you sacrifice when you become part of a we.
The other day, I was thinking about how, after a blow out, I had dry shampooed my hair for two days instead of actually washing it because I didn’t want to lose the curls my hairdresser had so painstakingly styled to perfection. Three good hair days in a row are hard to come by you know! By day three, I could smell the slightly stale scent you get when you haven’t washed your hair in a few days, not very noticeable by others because SachaJuan dry shampoo is the bomb (highly recommended!) but by myself since it’s more of a personal space issue.
There are some weekends when I just can’t be bothered to shower. I’m not going to lie. Occasionally I refuse to leave the house, will sit in my pajamas and not shower until I have to get ready for work on Monday morning, even longer if it’s a three day weekend. You can’t do that when you don’t live in a Single Girl Apartment you know… hygiene, or lack thereof, is something I feel is grounds for divorce.
Other things I probably would have to sacrifice is staring into magnifying mirrors and squeezing gunk out of my pores (with cotton buds), plucking my arm pit hair with tweezers (because Asian girls aren’t that hairy you know…), giving myself the occasional emergency bikini wax and eating over the sink after a date because my spanx probably would probably have burst if I had indulged. These are things I can share with my girlfriends but definitely not a boy!
What kind of secret single girl behaviour would you have to give up if you weren’t single?