2015-12-03 - 2:24 p.m.
When I think of my first girlfriend, the first girl I got naked with, both of us 18, I think of smells. She wore Calvin Klein's Obsession, which I still smell every now and then, in elevators or while waiting in line at 7-Elevens and I'll think: she's found me.
And I think of how her scalp smelled. Is that weird? It's true, though. Me on top of her, me a little bit taller, and so the smell of her winter-time scalp musky, a little dusty, human, alive, filling up my head. I smell that smell sometimes, on me, on another. It's close, but not quite the same.
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