perfume and roseShe’s gone.  I can’t reach out and touch her.  I can’t take her to our favorite restaurant and have a romantic meal with candles, music and quiet conversation.  I can’t look into her eyes and see the hopes and dreams that lived there, so vivid and alive.

She’s gone.  I can’t walk through the door and see her standing there waiting to greet me.  I can’t see her smile that always warmed my heart.  I can’t share my day with her and hear her laugh at some of the silly things I did.  I can’t take her hand and walk through the park and watch the geese in the pond or sit on a bench and talk about nothing.  I can’t sit by the fire and put my arm around her and feel love and comfort and coziness.

She’s gone. And I miss her so much.

I walk past her closet and smell the soft fragrance of her favorite perfume that lingers there.  It triggers memories and fills me with nostalgia and a longing to have her in my arms just one more time.  If only.

I step into the shower and her shower gel is still there and I lift the cap and breathe in the fragrance that always greeted me each morning.  Her favorite body lotion is still on the counter and I can’t resist dabbing a small drop of it on my hand and letting it remain there for me to enjoy the fragrance and reminisce. 

The last bouquet of her favorite flowers that I gave her on her birthday is still in the vase on the table.  The flowers have dried but a faint fragrance is still present and reminds me of the memorable time we had celebrating her special day.  How I wish there was another one to celebrate together.  If only.

She’s gone.  And I miss her so much.  Somehow the fragrances keep her alive 

via Daily Prompt: Fragrance




I live simple. I laugh. I love. I write.


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