My Own Little Escape

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Michelle. Scottie. 19. Maltese.

Sitting in my bed going through my year old playlist and stuck on one particular song. On a day like this, cloudy - with a hint of sunshine here and there - I reminisce on what was happening a year ago. I was a lost girl, taking on any adventure that came her way to escape reality and one person in particular was that entire escape. The song, gives me flash backs and not only in visions of past memories but also in smell and taste. The smell of cigarettes, beer and that perfume he wore, which tingled my nostrils and gave an odd taste in my mouth. It was strange, but somewhat comforting. His beard felt weird at first but added comfort, that I was in the arms of a man and not a boy. The way he sat in the armchair next to me, holding his beer on one lap and deeply inhaling the cigarette I gave him. Exhaling it slowly and watching the smoke he produced drift up in thin air. How his voice lowered in a raspy tone when his face was right in front of mine, while cupping my face in his hands.
That one song - all those details. Longing to go back again to that time, because it was a time when my escape made me happy, made my insides flutter. When that lost girl, managed to find happiness.