It’s scary how the simplest things render me breathless. A whiff of cologne…a song on the radio…small things like that let me escape the routine of my life. Something will trigger a thought of him and I’m lost…floating through the day surviving on only the necessary brain cells because the rest are conjuring up these schemes to see him just a few minutes sooner. It’s frustrating, though. I swore to myself and to him that I could handle this thing…this potential for a relationship. And I can…except for those small things that whisk me through time to my adolescent self.