And I thought things couldn't get any worse.

My favorite uniform shirt smells like you.
The first time I kissed you, I was wearing this shirt.
Did you know that?
Do you remember something so minuscule as that?
Probably not.
Suddenly, everything in my room smells like you.
My bed sheets -- how? I've washed them seven times
   since you were in them last.
The doorway -- but only when I'm leaving, never entering.
My favorite Beck album -- makes sense. I brought
   it to your house one time so we could play it, love, then sleep.
Your smell, vanilla and the crook of your neck, permeates the corners.
I can't tell you how many sticks of incense I've burned
   in the past month.
Their musk does nothing to clothe yours.

And how is it fair that so much love is being lost? *How is it right?