They say that memory is most closely tied to the sense of smell.

I guess you’d be surprised to find that the smell of my car reminds me most of you. Of all those days spent aimlessly cruising, with no particular destination in mind. It was the joy of the adventure. Do you rememer it?

I remember those days all too well.

Windows rolled down, music blaring, directions in a little ball at our feet. We didn’t need them. We found our own way.

Your clothes always smelled like newly-washed laundry, another smell which triggers something in my memory. Every time I fold the wash, it all comes rushing back. There was a time when I did laundry just so I could remember you, green eyes swimming as you wrapped me up in your arms.

I always loved wearing your sweatshirts. They were always four sizes too big, and yet, somehow, they seemed to be the perfect fit.

And books. The smell of freshly printed paper. Of crisp, clean, pages. You used to write me notes in the books you borrowed.

Do you remember?