misstyrios

I've known forever that smells are some of the most potent triggers of memories, but when it happens, the sheer force of it still overpowers me. It happened twice today and physically made me stop in my tracks both times. I almost always use the back entrance to my apartment building, as that's where our parking lot is. But today, I walked out into the front hallway to get the mail and the smell of that little foyer - the combination of the heavy air conditioning, the neighbors' cigarette smoke and cooking smells - transported me back to last July when I moved in. I had flashes of being with my ex and actually being happy, of commuting to my old job every morning, of having this unknown world of law school loom in front of me. From a day-to-day perspective, nothing seems to change, but just 11 months ago, my life was in an entirely different place. The same sentiment happened later, as I was leaving work today. I am doing research for a professor at school, so I still spend my days in the same library I inhabited all year. Now that there aren't many people around, a lot of the regular entrances and exits are locked up. To get to my car at the end of the day, I used a hallway and door that I almost never used during the year. Yet stepping into that little hallway again transported me back to the first week of law school, when I didn't know what I was doing, where all the staircases and hallways led to. The smell by this entrance took me back to that feeling, made me realize how scared I was then, and how far I've come since. I didn't know anyone, yet now I have amazing friendships, have relationships that have built and broken down, have a mind-boggling amount of knowledge that I couldn't have imagined back in those hazy September days. In less than a year, I have a new life. And that's fuckin' scary. Because someday, this life now is going to be a memory to look back on, to marvel at, to wonder about. I have loved my year and wouldn't change it for anything, even the most painful heartaches, the moments of sheer and utter exhaustion, the feelings that I would never get through it still alive. Because in the end...I'm actually happy. I just hope I don't look back at this one day and wish I could recapture the happiness. I hope some smell doesn't one day make me wish I could be as content as I am now.

End sappy reflection.