Yesterday I stopped by the local bicycle store to have my tires pumped up and to my surprise, got my ego a little inflated too.

I ran into a past lover. Not just any lover, but one I acquired while “taking a break” from my then-steady beau; a roping of a young, sporty version of a man, to entertain myself (and keep me fit!) throughout the summer months.

The first few moments of these encounters are always awkward, aren’t they? The small talk, the catch up, the where’ve-you-been and what’ve-you-done and how-is-so-and-so, and whatnot. And then the inevitable, fatal goodbye… the outstretched hand, the move to embrace when you both go to the left, and then to the right, and laugh nervously. And then suddenly I’m stuck between his arms anyway and he won’t let go. He squeezes to varying degrees as he says again how great it is to see me, breathes deep and then comes the “Oh my god, I forgot how good you smell.”

After this type of thing happens you ride away (or walk or drive), thinking Look out Demi, you’re not the only one who can hogtie someone 15 years your junior! I think he was 22…well, fingers crossed for 24; I just never really wanted to know for sure. Anyway.

I know that scent easily transports you back in time. Drakkar Noir will always take me back to prom night as assuredly, I suppose, as a whiff of my standby classic L’Heure Bleue by Guerlain will take this man back to the way my hair draped over the sand when we made love on the beach that summer.

He’s called me twice already to get together to “catch up” some more. But that’s a chapter I’ve closed in my love life, I know; I smile writing this as I glance over at my beau standing in the kitchen, one eye on the television and one on the bottle of merlot he’s opening for us.

It’s not, however, a chapter I’ve closed in my fragrance books—- I remove the top of my L’Heure Bleue and inhale, and the beach and the sun and his arms become real again.

By Kiki D
Published September 23rd, 2009 15:53