I’ll be real with you, like many others I experience some level of social anxiety and I know how loud social settings can bring up a lit for me so I fidget. A couple months ago i started carrying a pick with me at all times just for moments such as these.
Today at brunch it was the scent of a bath balm that reminded me of a recently passed ex lover. I wafted the scent for a few moments before tears welled in my eyes of that past spring lust of that sweet romantic fling. Before I began to weep I managed to inch the guitar pick out if my pocket and into my healing hand to run it through the fingers of my opposite hand. In this moment I felt a bit of comfort flow through my body at such a bittersweet time.
The scent of the bath balm transcended upon me so heavily that I could almost taste his lips and feel his touch again. Momentarily longing for that marvelous spring lust of what felt like a lifetime ago. I remember the sensation of his soft gentle hands against my curves and my hips. A steaming cup of joe in my hand just sipping at past bliss. It was many moons ago but it has yet to be forgotten.
Being able to fidget with my pick saved me from a heartfelt cry with a large group of friends, the sorrow still somber coming and going as it tends. I wear that fruitful lust in my heart for the part it has taken. The past brought me here today with the future for the making.