The first time I met her I was a scrawny five year old in a family of twenty savage people.
My family never had enough money to feed every one so my father used to just buy food in bulk sizes and with me being the youngest I was often forgotten and pushed away when dinner was served. I sat in the cool night air all alone with tears streaming down my face like the niagra falls while seeing my family was busy feasting on some corn and expired milk. My family was a firm believer in reminding me that I was not important due to my slight limp. With a hard smack they warned me to stop begging for food. Clutching my face I limped to a corner in a dark and musty alley when I smelt her.
It was not the same foul odor of a decaying cat that I was used to, but rather a warm smell. Her scent reminded me of warm cuddles with my mother on a cold winter morning before my life was turned upside down and promises of dancing in a field of flowers. I followed my nose through puddles of mysterious liquids untill I could follow her no more. In that moment of sitting outside old lady Jenkins porch I realised that I was in love.
Shivering while sitting on a rusted bucket surounded by cockroaches I learned some thing about love. Love can hurt you so much, because you can't be with the person you want to be with and yet I had a silly smile plasterd on my face as I noticed that I was feeling less pain. She allowed me to forget about the burning sensation in my face while it was ebbing away.
Now came the hard part of identifing my new found love, was I in love with the smell of her or with her?
With a groan of defeat that she left me before I was able to meet her I fell into my bed made of sand filled bags and for the first time ever I cried myself to sleep, because I wanted to be with her.
NOTE
I don't know what this is. I am really tired. It is supposed to be a joke so feel free to laugh and my spelling is also a joke so enjoy. 😂
