Published on August 9th, 2013 | by Katie0
Diary Entry: You Smell Bad
An excerpt from Katie Boland’s diary from the summer she lost her mind.
This is a conversation I had with a man I was casually seeing who couldn’t love me, that for privacy purposes I’ll call “Scott”, also from my diary. — Katie
“You have a specific smell,” Scott said.
“What? A bad one?” I asked.
“No, it’s not bad.”
“What does it smell like?”
“Just you. Your smell. I could be anywhere in the world, anytime, and I would know it’s your smell. I’ll never forget it.”
And then it hit me. Maybe all the men were just temporary, acting as in-betweeners, filling space. But we would mean something to each other. Our encounters would not be wholly casual, devoid of human feeling. We would leave a lasting impression on each other, however tiny. For better or for worse, we would remain somehow embedded in each other’s consciousness; in a smell, in a movement, in a look. Nothing ever meant nothing to anyone.
The next morning, we walked all around the city, and then after he bought me two McDonald’s soft-serves, he left me on a street corner in the middle of Toronto. We kissed, and the finality of it all surprised me.
I walked back to my apartment. It was far, it took me over two hours. I remember thinking the whole way home, but I wasn’t sure about what. Random thoughts just floated in and out of my head, strange voices I owned argued about if I’d done the right or wrong thing.
I decided I couldn’t just go home. I walked into my best male friend Ben’s place of work, which was a cafe around the corner.
“Guess who doesn’t learn from their mistakes?”
Ben looked up. It was a question worth asking. I was still drunk and apparently, I looked like an insane homeless person.
And then we both keeled over, laughing like hyenas.
I haven’t seen or spoke to Scott since.