I took a deep breath as his arms created a vice grip around my body, connecting me to him. However, I couldn't have felt more disconnected from the man who was supposed to be my uncle, my own flesh and blood. In an attempt to rediscover a common link, something that would convince me I knew this figure embracing me, I began to inhale his scent just one more time, to hold me over until I could manage to see him again. I was reaching for something, anything really, that could persuade me into loving this man once again. I wanted so badly to admire him like I had years prior, to crack a smile just thinking of his crooked one or squeal with delight at the sound of his booming laugh, but the universe doesn't make it that easy. It's a constant fight between the reality that resides in our minds and the forbidden desire that festers in our hearts.
It's quite funny how one person has a signature scent; combinations of the places they've been or the objects they've come in contact with. A scent can tell the story a person may be too afraid to, it can reveal who a person truly is and the desires they keep within. It's this intimacy, the fact that you know something about a person that know one else does, that can draw two people together. I would like to say the smell of stale smoke and gasoline was enough to reconnect my uncle and I, but in reality it managed to further separate us. It reminded me of the sins he committed and the lies he fed me, and how I eagerly ate them up. I could feel those lies turning sour in bottom of my stomach, and soon they were ready to force themselves up and out. My mouth wanted to purge not only those lies, but my body, of the filth. However, my mouth was sadly mistaken if it thought getting clean was as simple as that.
As I pulled away I began to study the face I once had known so well. The problem is that face was nothing but a mask, an illusion to cover up the filth and destruction that lay beneath. A filth that infiltrated everything in it's path, the type of filth that would never go away, a grime that would always show despite the best of efforts. It was then that I realized I could never count on anyone, not even the man who had given me a thousand reasons to smile, because people every single day put on a mask. We use these masks as a safe haven, a shield against reality and the consequences life bestows upon us. This is, in the most painfully ironic sense, selfish; we attempt to save others pain by hiding our demons yet we are doing nothing but harming them. We lead them down a path of deceit, causing comfort with an illusion when in reality, coming to terms with truth is the most honest sense of comfort.
I will no longer depend on anyone for fulfillment, I am my own person in charge of my own happiness and no one can take that away from me.
I am now clean.