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That's why I used the term "Breathing me in" in yesterday's post. I think "smelling" wouldn't really cover the description of what you'd be doing 🤔
In the very least, you'd be inhaling me. Like, if smelling could have a form of fucking, I'm pretty confident you'd be doing that!
I also think 99% of you would find yourself in the predicament that my husband finds himself in when he goes blabbering on about having a hard time explaining to me how good my feet smell and what that "good smell" is.
Honestly, I don't really get it, except by saying it sounds like he's smelling the metaphorical rainbow of "what smells good", at least to him anyway 🤷🏼♀️
Like somehow my soles smell sweet and floral (Like me! 😇), yet carry the subtle smells of the day on them? Things like my high heels, my yoga mat, my gym shoes and my socks? He says he can smell that in like, the background, and it's all coming together into this smell-gasm whirlwind that he seems very happily flustered in articulating with words.
Opsie! Did I just make these pictures kinda evil with all that? 😬
Oh shush, you'll be fine.
xoxo
-Gwen 😙