Today, I called him wishing him a happy birthday. I have to admit that I struggled a little bit whether I should call or not. I want to call because he is still somehow a special person for me. I want wish him happy on his day. I also couldn't accept the feeling of "we are totally none of each other's business" if I not call. I hesitate to call since I want to convince myself that I don't care anymore. I want myself to know that I don't have my emotion attached on this kind of stuff. I can live my life happily, alone. Don 't even bother wishing my ex a happy birthday. But it turned out prove that I am a very sensual person. I dialed the number. I thought to myself: if we did share some memories together, bitter or sweet, I should give this a person a call. Although I don't quite prefer to get in touched, I can't wrap up myself with the idea to delete this person totally from my life either. After all, we had something special before.

So we talked. He is back to Leesburg from UNC, where he will go to in the fall. That's the place offered me a place 2 years ago but I didn't eventually go. I feel happy for him. Everything turns out so well except us. Last summer, he left Boston with his "big decision" with no idea what that would bring to his life. But everything turned out to be the way we expected it to except us. The "Obama", the "big win for school", a better place than Baltimore.  I get a dream offer. But, we are not together anymore. Sometimes, I was wondering, if things didn't turn out to the the way we want, why God let them happen. I would feel way much better than I am if I hadn't met him. We are like two lines, come cross each other at one point, and then departure to separate ways.

So, today I spend another productive day at library with my 10 pounds tax book and Starbucks iced vanilla. This is usually my typical day like for the finals. I am not a "7:00 o'clock every day" person, so I have to use some way to discipline myself, at least in the last minutes. The library is always a big help.

Anyway, when I headed back home from school in the night, I smelled a light scent in the air. The one that relates to the summer night, especially at the suburb area. It is not the smell of blossomy flower, or freshly grown grass, it is the smell of skunk. Yes, the smell that we believe from the skunk killed on the road. In a city like Boston, where its buildings are more than its trees, the smell is not as strong as somewhere like Virginia. Still, you can somehow smell it. Light, oily, and a little sweet and warm maybe.

Some people label themselves as "visual", most men, for example. For me, I have to fall into the category as "olfactory". There are always certain scents have the magic to transport me to certain time in my past. The smell can bring memories coming back. I don't find the smell of skunk distracting. This is not to say I love that smell and want it everywhere. But it is the smell that I relate to summer, the summer in the States. It reminds me the summer days I spend down at the south, the days I wear flip flop walking on Rugby. Other smell like hand cream with tuberose fragrance reminds me the days back to junior high. The hot chocolate reminds me mom's hug when I got home in a chilly winter day. The "Clinique happy" reminds me one of my dating life.

With the smell in the air, you can feel the season clicks. Summer of Boston is around the corner.

Precious and lovely.