How's this for a smooth line:
"I want to hug you. And give you some cough drops."
Nick @ 11:51 PM |
I was just hanging up the sweater Caroline gave back to me today.
First of all, as I picked it up, I remembered running into the apartment, flipping hastily through the closet, hoping that I'd find a sweater she liked that she could borrow. I remember wondering why I didn't have a better selection, kicking myself for wearing oversize clothes, and hoping that navy blue wouldn't violate some fundamental fashion law. I remember realizing that I put as much effort and worry into lending her a sweater as I do into applying to college, printing the paper, and acting in plays.
And as I straightened it out to put it on the hanger tonight, I smelled fabric softener. Caroline's fabric softener. I couldn't help but wad it up, put it to my face, and breathe deeply. We may be miles apart, but right now, she's here with me. Something as simple and mundane as the scent of her fabric softener gives me an unshakable feeling of calm, of comfort -- a warmth deep inside that tells me that somewhere out there in the world is a person who I love, and who loves me right back.
I don't need this feeling to live. I don't even need this feeling to be happy -- in fact, I need to be happy to have this feeling.
I know I'm being sentimental, and shmaltzy, and silly. But everyone should, once in a while.
Nick @ 11:44 PM |
Wow. I'll never listen to the first six songs of my Something Corporate CD the same way again.
Nick @ 10:27 PM |