Paul

The man I love with all my heart smells of Axe body spray and social with drawl. We do not share long drawn out conversations, Paul and I, but I know how deeply he cares. When I walk into the room Paul's crazy eyes light up. "Pizzy! Pizzy! Pizzy?", he will ask me persistently under his breath while his hands make small circles at his sides. That is his way of asking me out for a delicious pizza dinner. I enjoy our special nights out together, but Paul shys away from my touch when I tackle him to the ground and dig the post meal cigarette butts from his mouth in the parking lot after. To hell with the staring eyes. Paul will giggle to himself all the way home.
I knew Paul was different that first night when I walked in on him drinking out of the toilet bowl. "Paul!" I admonished. "STOP IT! That's gross!" I should not judge. He whipped the porcelain toilet tank lid at my head to prove this point.
Strong aromas excite Paul. That is how I kill two birds with one stone. I will wear my my patchouli oil and Paul will lean in but from across the room and close his eyes with a happy smile and breath my sent in.
"Paul, can you say patchouli?", I ask my favorite guy. And he will turn his head away and mutter , "Stink".