I stand behind, inhaling the musk the breeze sends to bless my nose as you laugh confidently, strutting ahead of me. I shift position so that I am always in the line of that scent. You smell intoxicating. I move forward, reaching out, I tap you and ask, “excuse me. Good afternoon. What do you have on“?. You smile and tell me and I make a mental note to buy the very same for the man that I love. I smile and say, “thank you. It smells amazing“.
I remain standing where I am as you continue your strut to where ever it is you are going. I can no longer follow you, lingering behind you, constantly inhaling. Appreciating the scent that surrounds you.
Good, God! I shriek in my head. My husband must smell good! I wish I had asked for a spritz of that cologne you were wearing. He smelt so nice.
You see, I do the above dance frequently when walking around London. There is always that one man who understands his body’s natural scent and mixes it with the most satisfying perfume. Sometimes, it is perfume oil he uses. Other times, it is actual perfume or aftershave. On one occasion, the man I asked told me it was just a spray but he could not remember the name of it.
I have kept a catalogue of all these scents, waiting for the opportunity to start gifting them to the love of my life because you see, there is something about a man who smells nice.
Some women stop for his smile, others for his body or build. Some pause for his language, intelligence (I do too) yet more others stop for his presentation and carriage. I stop and then follow, for his scent. I respond to scent. A well-balanced aroma is able to hypnotize me to the point of delirium. I am not exaggerating.
I remember being on the train and this complete stranger enters the train and stands in front of me. His scent filled the carriage and I was in love. Not with him, (I still do not remember what he looked like) with his scent. As the train moved, the trail hit my face and with that, my eyes closed, my body moved and I followed my nose. I do not want to think of what I may have looked like but I remember opening my eyes, looking up to a raised eyebrow as my face was inches from his chest. If I was white, my face would have been red. I smiled, told him he smelt nice, apologised and shuffled back to my original spot. He nodded, smiled and gave me a weird look. He did not turn away though and thank God because for the next few stops, he blessed me with his scent. Oh! God bless the men who smell divine.
I have already admitted I am weird. I am fine with that. Feel feel to judge (condemn). Lol!
Why am I sharing all this?
Well, it is a prayer point that whoever I marry always smells DELICIOUS to me and I am always checking. My nose never lies to me.
One time, my heart was fooled. My spirit was not convinced but I barricaded my spirit with facts about how he ticked most boxes. I reminded my spirit about all the good about him. I ignored the alarm. I ignored the lack of peace. I pressed on. Everyone mentioned what a good match we made, how well we fit. I reminded my spirit of this too.
My nose disagreed.
He spent hundreds of pounds on very expensive aftershaves, perfumes, spritzes of all shapes, designs and sizes. He knew about my nose. We even went together and purchased a few bottles of my favourite scents. Yet, however nice they smelt in the shop or on another man, they never smelt right, correct or balanced on him.
There was always an underlying odour I could not finger. I would hear others say how lovely he smelt and he probably did but to me, I could not rid myself of the low tones of…I am not sure. It was not body odour. It was something else. Something unpleasant. A smell I could not stomach.
“You never comment on my perfumes“, he would complain, while watching my face. ” You just told that man he smelt nice. You never say that to me“. I would smile and say, ” you that spent the money, do I need to comment“?. That would satiate him until the next time he saw me dab oil on my hand and dab my top lip or smile at another man, stating, “you smell wonderful“.
“Do I smell“? He would ask, irritated. “Are you joking?! Of course you don’t. You know you do not“. I would respond on rote, watching him spray himself a little more.
The truth was, he did not smell in the general sense of the word but my nose also never lies. There was always a note of a scent I could not name. I did not like it. My nose did not like that scent and despite the effort he always puts in, I always picked it up. It made me feel ill.
He could not be the one for me.
His scent was off. It was not always off to me. I remember a time when I closed my eyes and my nose followed him. A time when I would lay my head on his chest and inhale. Simply, inhale. He would let me, looking down on me as if I was a lost dog trying to find my way. There was that time and there is now.
It is possible that that me and his scent worked but this me and his scent now, are incompatible. You see, there are certain scents that on paper should never be mixed together. Like lavender and mango but when you do mix the two, they work so well. Or scents that are made to thrive, created to be combined. Like Grapefruit and Sugarcane or Pineapple and Coconut. Chocolate and Orange.
Then you have other scents that should never mix. Frankincense and Cinamon. These two can never be. It is putrid.
My nose did not appreciate his scent. My nose never lies. What my heart was deceived by. What my brain could not calculate, my nose caught. Even when I silenced and ignored my spirit, I could not ignore my nose.
His scent, told me all I needed to know, about us.
“I think I will get the train back. You go. I will be fine” I said quietly, as the train approached. The faux wind lifted his scent and pushed it towards me, like a surge. I stepped back. It was not intoxicating. It was not hypnotizing. It smelt fine but there was that weird note again. As the doors opened, I stepped unto the carriage. “Good night“, I whispered as he nodded. Aware of the finality of my well wish.
The train moved and I noticed the empty seats. Happily sitting down, making sure I was not in the fast train and preparing to relax, someone sits opposite me.
As the person sits and begins to adjust, their scent is caught in the breeze. Oh! I think. My eyes close and my nose is grateful as I inhale more deeply, taking in this joyous aroma.
I smile to myself. “This is more like it!” I repeat again to myself. This time, I remain where I am and just enjoy the ride.