Letter

I keep working on this imaginary letter to you in my mind. Sitting with pen and paper, scribing it all down then crumpling it up and trowing it away. You'd think the older you get, the stronger you'd be, the more knowledgeable you'd become, the easier it is to talk. Yet here I am feeling weak, uncertain and unable to find words that seem to fit?

Maybe Ben was right?

So maybe Ben was right? I found it interesting last night, this morning, that smell is a really curious and strong memory. When I woke up in my bed there was something still lingering that kept taking me back to his bed? There was a millisecond of almost forgetting where I was even through out the day there would be a strange sensation, something that kept taking me back to the night before. Finally I realized what it was. The smell, it was on my clothes, my skin, the slightest lingering of sent that kept creeping it's way back cross my nose making me forget where I was for the briefest second. It felt nice,warm,like a soft chuckle under neath someone's breath. Maybe Ben was right, it's stronger then you realize, sent. So what does that do for me now?