11.8

[This is not Catherine. I can't believe I am at a point in my life where I must specify. I do so like short stories.]

I never wear cologne. I also don't understand why it must be called cologne. It's just perfume for men. I wear deodorant, but I don't go around smelling my pits. Normally, I just smell air, and that's it. Sometimes I'll smell my breath and freak out looking for a toothbrush, but normally just air.
That's why the smell of her is so overpoweringly important. I never smell anything but food and bathrooms. That's why the smell of her is so incredibly vital. If you never smell anything in your whole life unless you're going to eat it or clean it, you lose the part of you that recognizes the emotional power of smell.

Until I smelled her, I forgot the emotional power of smell. That's why the smell of her is so crippling. And when another woman sat down across from me and wafted over the smell of her, I wanted to stand up and leave the room and run to my car and drive to her.
Instead, I just thought about waffles and urinal cakes.

That's why the smell of her is a terrifying wound.