When E. found out about my blog, he wanted to know if I had written about him.

“No.”
“Why not?”

I’m thinking at time why would he want me to write about him? I hardly know what to say. But, I’m going to give it a try.

E. was a pretty serious love for a year and half. We had fun. He would at least concede that. He’s a good-looking guy and keeps in good shape. He’s not terribly tall—in fact we are almost the same height. He also has quite a bit of body hair—which he hates—and I loved. If you had asked me about hairy men before I met him, I would have said, “yuck.” But his was soft and petable. To this day, he thinks I’m crazy for that.

Then there was his smell. No, not that kind of smell—a natural smell. He doesn’t wear scented stuff of any kind. I loved—still love—his smell. Again, he thinks it is weird. I’ve never liked someone’s natural smell so much in my life. I even have smell memories. Ever thought of someone while they are away and then smelled them? I have. He has a job that requires him to be out of town a lot. One time when he left for a few weeks, I made him leave me a worn shirt. I know he thought I was nuts, but smelling that shirt made me feel that he was close by.

We could talk for hours about everything—still can. We got along better than I have with anyone. Why did it end? You’ll have to ask E. because I have no reasonable explanation. I’m sure my being unemployed didn’t help things. I’m sure I acted needy, maybe even clingy. I had lost my job and most of my friends, except him. And then the bottom fell out of my life: no job, no friends, no boyfriend. I couldn’t date for a long time without being reminded of him. Well, I still remember now and then. We’re still friends, and we find time on rare occasions to catch up.