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That smell
I sat with my head against my boyfriend's belly, his arm around my head, with my nose burried in the sleeve of my Mario Brother's hoodie he comendered. It was that smell, like 4 months of french fries, Luck Strikes, Djaurm Blacks, being picked up after a stressful day at work for dinner, Chinese food on a lazy day, cooking in his kitchen, dancing at DeathGuild at The DNA Lounge, spilling a drink or two, two concerts, a trip to San Fransisco, Japantown, shopping at Target, moving my stuff in to his appartment, getting my sewing machine set up, more cooking, some rich velvety rum, half a bottle of southern comfort, meatless meat subsititues, turkey bacon, being obsessed with Tumblr, playing Portal 2, spitting on Bowser, mustard on Bowser, cartoons, laughing all night, deep frying lots of food, icewine, and mostly the smell of french fries. It was the smell of 4 months of happiness. Doesn't matter how stressed or depressed I woke up this morning, that smell on the sleeve of my sweater that my boyfriend wears all the time, that smell like I am finially in the only place I ever wanted to be is all I need. In a week we will have been together for 4 months. That's 4 periods with PMS he didn't run from. That's 4 months of my boss cutting my hours every month until I left the job that he listened to me complain about. That's 4 months of posting mush about him on Fackbook. Four months of my kid that he's played along with. Four months of my squeeks and squeals about shows I like, movies I want to see, cute things I "just have to buy" and he laughed about. Four months of my planning things to make/sell on ETSY with his encouragement. Four months of ME and he's still here. So, it's that smell on the sleeve of that hoodie that reminded me, despite my mood, that <3


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