His permanent scent was a mixture of Clorox and cologne. After 49 weeks, that smell still lingers in the spots I first found it, and I ache for his touch. I long for the aromatic hysterics to overtake me and cling to my sweaters and my hair and for his handprints to be pressed forever into my back and for the emotionless love to act once again as my escape because I've only been pushed further under since we last tragically locked our mouths together.