"He is a young journalist who already got to work with a big shot paper in Washington. Just meet him, that's all I ask. Please Erin, you might surprise yourself and like him."

"No, mom. I hate journalists." Finally, I take a sip of the coffee. It's ice cold. I put it back on the table, irritated.

"What's the problem Erin? Why aren't you trying?" Her voice is reaching the screeching tenure I hate.

I smile, it's forced but mom doesn't know the difference, "some other time, mom."

I have had enough of mom for an afternoon. Her company has become intolerable nowadays, I stand up and take a step towards my room. She knows how to get on my nerve.

If the man is chosen by her, she is all kinds of supportive for my dating. If not she screams until her throat gives out.

Like with Sam.

She was livid, when I said I was going to the lake with Sam.

"Why do you want to meet a stranger?" She asked.

"To get to know him."

Lydi laughed. "Good one."

"Mom, he was nice, interesting. I'm not going to fuck him. Just talk."

"Erin, I'm not going to flinch every time you say a crude word. Stop it." Mom used her haughty not so nice tone that made me feel small.

"Yeah, we desensitized her Erin. We should come up with something else." Lydi said to cheer me up.

"You're the reason he's like this. Why can't you be a responsible sister, Lydi? Tell him not to go." Mom always blames Lydi.

"Come on mom, one date. Don't make it a big deal. Enjoy bro. Wait, I'll get a scarf." Lydi pressed my palm to keep me still.

"At least ask about him. Don't talk stupid things. He could be a criminal." Mom said.

"Why can't you think of something positive? Just because you've not chosen him, he had to be a criminal?" I shouted.

Lydi wrapped a shawl around my neck. "Don't be mad. You'll scare him." She kissed my cheek.

But that day, I didn't scare him. He touched me, let me touch him. Even though I tried my best to scare him, he molded himself with everything I threw at him. Nothing hit him the way I imagined.

The only thing that surprised him was my profession. All other tidbits he took in with no difficulties.

Jerking off for Mr.Anderson's voice was a creepy thing according to mom. But Sam, he understood.

Even I told him about my first kiss with Lydi. Most people question our closeness. Even mom wants us to keep a decent distance in public.

Sam though, just wrapped his hand around my shoulder, fingers rubbing my arm, wanted to know about my other firsts.

His fingers, oh fuck, his fingers were soft and thin with cropped nails. He didn't freak out when I kept his hand on my cheek. He leaned on my shoulder on his own. My heart burst with pride, finally I had found someone who liked me, just the way I was. I wanted to kiss him then and there. His scent was driving me nuts. Oh, his scent. His perfume is the best smelling perfume in my experience. Instead of kissing like I wanted to, I kept worrying he would not like my kiss.

In between all these, I still heeded to mom's advice and asked about him. But I don't know if I got much. He's under debt and works a lot to pay it.

I should have taken up his offer and gone to his room to fuck. Instead I flirted and pushed away a good chance at sex with Sam. He's gone now. I don't even know his last name.

It's been more than three months, I couldn't forget him. It's always like this. If someone has created a memory with me, it stayed forever. It's never farther than my reach. Sam has brought into existence some of my most loved memories. There's no way in hell I can forget him. Mom doesn't understand that. She never understood me, it took her forever to believe that gayness isn't a hormonal imbalance. She used to ask me every fucking day,

"Are you feeling better today? Those thoughts changed? Do you want to try going out with a girl?"

If not for Lydi, I might've run away somewhere.

She took me to three fucking doctors, before she gave up. Now she's started with these nice men that I should date. I've not even got out of my last date induced sweet coma. I don't know when I'm gonna snap at her.

I pick the posts the maid kept at my desk, I haven't checked them in few days. There are three. Two of them are my subscriptions magazines. Third one feels like a rectangular cover. I open the seal carefully.

A braille greeting card. At the middle it read,

''

At the bottom,

''

With heart in throat, unable to stamp down the hope bubbling up, I pick it to smell.

Sam. His perfume. The delicious scent instantly made me hard.

He touched this card, smelled it probably, kissed it, maybe. Light-headed and high, I lock the door, to go to bed with the card.

I'll sleep with him today. I hope my pillows get some of his scent from the card.

A smile stretches my jaws, all irritations of the day melts away. Sam has given me a new memory.

He still remembers me. After three months, after he has gone back to his daily grind, meeting his friends and family, he still found time to think about the almost fling he had in United States. He thought about the blind accountant with a crazy obsession over his perfume and decided to send a sample.

And maybe a hidden message? Which he wanted me to derive on my own. Which he didn't have to write down. The card itself is a message.

Sam loves me.